close your eyes
by This Ebony Bird
Summary: "She had thought it only fairytale, only fiction and never fact, but up until that moment, she had never truly believed in love at first sight." Draco/Luna. DH compliant. Rated T for coarse language, mature themes, & fairly graphic violence.
1. something

**Title:** close your eyes

**Summary: ****"She had thought it only fairytale, only fiction and never fact, but up until that moment, she had never truly believed in love at first sight."**

**Rating:** T for violence, mature themes, and coarse language.

**Author:** Ebony (This Ebony Bird).

**Beta:** Proofreaders outside of .

**Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Weasleys, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Dumbledore's Army, Hogwarts staff, various OCs, Order of the Phoenix, Ministry of Magic employees, various Hogwarts students, Teddy Lupin.

**Pairings: ****Draco Malfoy/Luna Lovegood centric. Includes Ronald Weasley/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Ginevra Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, William Weasley/Fleur Weasley. Eventual Blaise Zabini/OC, OC/Pansy Parkinson, OC/OC, George Weasley/Alicia Spinnet, Percival Weasley/Audrey Weasley. Mentions of Voldemort/Bellatrix, James Potter/Lily Potter, Severus Snape/Lily Evans, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, **

**World:** Hogwarts. Deathly Hallows onward. Canon-compliant, although at times it does stray from J.K. Rowling's original universe.

**Setting:** Mainly Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. Some scenes in Malfoy Manor, the Burrow, Ministry of Magic, Iaculus Cottage, various other locations in England.

**Genres:** Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Adventure, Drama.

**Status:** In Progress.

**Disclaimer: **I'm going to say this once and once only. Canon material is owned by Joanne K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing (UK), Arthur A. Levine Books (US), and Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc. This would not be FanFiction if I owned the Harry Potter franchise, so don't expect me to act like I do. Unless stated as otherwise, all original characters and plotlines are fictional. If there is any similarity to situations in other stories or real-life circumstances that you may recognize, it is purely coincidental. I tend to plagiarize my own ideas, so if you are familiar any of my other stories you may see parallels and crossovers with subjects matter such as languages, circumstances, et cetera. All p_re-story lyrics go to __The Fray__ because they are beautiful and I love them._

* * *

**close your eyes**

* * *

_"Looking for something I've never seen."_

* * *

"Luna! Luna come back! Lu, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" Ginny Weasley ran down the dark corridor, her flame-coloured hair streaming behind her. Luna kept on running, her patterned sneakers moving at top speed. It was at times like this where she wished she could turn herself into a bird and fly away from everything, leaving this world behind. There was nothing left for her here; she couldn't even stand to be around her best friend any longer.

Correction: _Ex_-best friend.

Now that Luna knew what the sole Weasley daughter thought of her, what she would _always_ think of her. She had always thought that Ginny would be the one person that would _always_ stick up for her, no matter what. The young Ravenclaw witch had thought of Ginny as a sister, a dear, kindred spirit.

Oh, how wrong she had been! How utterly stupid of her to think that a girl like her could have any real friends. How altogether moronic of her to think that she could ever really be happy. How absolutely brainless of her to think that she would ever find love or even a kindred friendship. How completely dim-witted of her to think that she could ever have a normal life.

The newly-made memory came back in waves, flooding Luna's mind like pink champagne overflowing the fountain at her cousin's wedding all those years ago. The wound was still fresh, not physically there, but anyone could see that the young girl was hurting more than they could ever imagine.

_Luna yawned, stretching out her pale limbs. She had come right back to the Ravenclaw common room after supper, curling up on the dark, midnight-blue, velveteen couch. She always came up here; it was usually quiet now. Students often had detention for completely useless reasons, and those that didn't have detention often worked in the libraries or in their own dormitories. _

_A small smile worked its way onto her face as she picked up her copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' by William Shakespeare. Xenophilius Lovegood had nurtured Luna's love of the old plays and sonnets, reading a young Luna elaborate passages from 'Hamlet' and 'The Tempest' to help her fall asleep. She opened the book, flipping to the page in which her salamander-shaped bookmark, christened with the name 'Elliot', lay patiently._

_"This is a really good part, right here." Elliot exclaimed in his strident voice, his paper eyes looking up at Luna as he crawled up to her shoulder. "Where Titania falls in love with Bottom." He chuckled to himself. Luna patted him on the head and turned the page with two delicate fingers._

_"I know, Elliot," She smiled. "I already read that page." Luna knew better than to leave the bookmark on a page she hadn't already read; Elliot would just spoil it for her the next time she opened the book. His sister, Tazmin, was always polite and quiet, her voice soft-spoken and sweet, but she was at home with Xenophilius._

_"Oh." The lizard's face was completely crestfallen, and he slumped on the young witch's shoulder. _

_"Luna?" A nervous voice broke the silence in the room. Luna turned around in her seat to see a first year, a young brunette by the name of Meg Brisby, that Luna liked very much. Meg was standing at the entrance, a worried look on her face. The older girl's face brightened._

_"Oh, hello Meg." She flashed a bright smile and, in one swift movement plucked Elliot off her shoulder, laying him back in the book. The younger girl shifted from foot to foot, looking anywhere but at the blonde. Luna walked forward, and the first year girl looked up at her with her tawny, deer-in-the-wandlight eyes. _

_"Luna, there's, um." Meg fiddled with the ends of her long toffee-coloured braids. "Ginny. She, er, well... Zachariassaidthatyouwereafre akandGinnywellGinnysaidthat..." She took a deep breath. "They're in the library." The younger Ravenclaw said quickly before bolting upstairs to her dormitory. _

_Luna frowned. A freak? Zacharias Smith said that she was a _freak_? She slipped her sneakers back on, and quickly left the common room, skipping down the corridors to the library. She artfully missed the trick stairs in each of the moving staircases, smiling all the way, like Luna Lovegood was wont to do._

As she focused on unfocusing on the past ten minutes, Luna tripped -something that was definitely not an abnormal feat- and fell, sprawling out on the cold stone floor. Her blonde head hit the surface with a thud, but, dazed, she stood up. She heard Ginny's shouted apologies behind her but ignored them, forcing her legs to keep moving once more, even if she had no idea which direction she was going in as her overcast world swam before her.

Once the redheaded girl's footsteps faded behind her until they were no more, Luna stopped and sat down, gasping for breath. She crumpled against the wall, curling up on the floor and hugging her knees. She felt tears burn her eyes, and let them fall. They spattered the ground around her, wetting her skirt, her hands, her shoes, the floor. She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to cry as silently as she could. If Professor Snape or one of the other Death Eaters saw her, she would be dead faster than she could say 'Umgubular Slashkilter'.

She sighed and brushed her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She blinked, realizing where she was. She was in the North Tower, by the old Divination room. The once-majestic room was now abandoned. Curious, with traces of tears still in her eyes, she mounted the stairs, her footsteps soundless on the winding stone staircase.

Suddenly conscious that the moon was out and that she should probably be back in her dormitory by now, Luna checked the small red and turquoise pocketwatch that she kept in her robes pocket. Her eyes widened at the time. She should have been in bed fifteen minutes ago. Letting a small groan of frustration escape her, she continued her journey towards the unused Divination classroom.

She devised a small plan to fashion a corner into a sleep-worthy place, just for tonight. It was too risky trying to get back to Ravenclaw tower, especially at this pitch-black hour in the night. You Know Who's cutthroat army would be patrolling the corridors, not to mention the Dementors that were stationed outside, ready to perform their most deadly trick on anyone who trespassed.

Luna pointed her thin rosewood wand at the rusty handle, murmuring one of her most favoured charms to get the lock to open. The familiar orange-gold glow brightened the inside of the lock before fading to black again. She pulled carefully on the door, tugging it open and stepping silently inside.

She turned around slowly, breathing a small 'lumos' and watching as a ghostly blue light burst from the tip of her wand. She held out the slender stick in front of her, the light casting a strange glow on her incisive silver-blue eyes.

Out of the corner of her dreamy gaze, she saw a pale hand appear right next to her. It clamped over her mouth and an arm gripped her tightly around her waist. Before she knew it, she was wrapped in someone's arms. What if it was a Slytherin? Or a Death Eater? Or some other horrible being?

"Shh, stop _moving_, Lovegood." A male voice whispered in her ear. Luna calmed herself down, going limp in her captor's arms. The voice was low and modulated with only a touch of simple arrogance, the words rolling smoothly of the owner's tongue. Biting down on her lip again and tasting blood, the Ravenclaw girl refused to cry. Usually she was fine with crying, but she couldn't, not in front of this stranger. "I'm going to let you go now, alright?" The quiet voice said carefully. "Don't try to escape." Luna nodded serenely in understanding.

The arms released her small frame, and Luna fell to the floor. She picked herself up slowly, turning to face the person that the somewhat familiar voice belonged to. She had a strange gut feeling that she knew the face to match the voice, but she couldn't place it.

A shadow moved a few feet away, and Luna immediately went back into her warrior mode, raising her lighted wandtip out in front of her. The figure chuckled. "Put that light down." He commanded gently. "You don't need it." Confused, Luna lowered her wandtip.

"Nox." She breathed, and the light disappeared, leaving the two only the moonlight to see by. The blonde girl moved her head, trying to catch a better glimpse of her new companion. "I'm sorry, but, who are you?" She asked politely, considering that he already knew who she was; why would _his_ identity have need to remain unknown?

"That's no business of yours." He replied, his voice soft with a touch of iciness. Luna made a mental note not to touch on this subject again. The shadow was silhouetted against the window, but abandoned his position and moved closer to her. The moonlight caught his eyes, and Luna froze.

His eyes were unlike any she had ever seen. They were a crisp, pale grey, she would even dare to call them silver. The twin ash-coloured irises bore right into her, and she almost collapsed from the sheer intensity they bore. They didn't speak; they commanded. They were harsh, sharp, like round silver blades that would cut through any mortal's soul in an instant. They were fire; they were ice; smouldering and freezing at the same time.

She blinked, giving a small shake of her head as he dragged her out of her revery by closing his eyes momentarily and altering his position so that his eyes were no longer in the moon's precious spotlight. He took on a small smirk, and Luna's attention was immediately shifted to his lips. His lips were pursed slightly, as if they were usually twisted in a supposedly permanent look of disdain. They were a few shades darker and rosier in comparison to the pale skin that surrounded them. A few slight lines in them around the opening to his mouth indicated a slight dryness that was on the brink of becoming a split.

"It's rude to stare." He murmured, stepping closer. Luna looked steadily back, her face still wearing the thoughtful look it always donned. Luna Lovegood didn't blush; she never blushed. She wasn't a bashful creature; she wasn't self-conscious in the least.

She could see the slight surprise appear on his face. She assumed that he was used to girls turning beet-red merely at a glance from him. She flashed a small smile at him. "It's funny," She mused, looking down at her feet. Her bright, flower-patterned Chuck Taylor's smiled up at her, and she wiggled her toes, feeling the canvas fabric tighten against her feet. "I'm usually the one using that line." Luna looked back at her companion, the traces of her smile still etched on her pale, heart-shaped face.

He stepped forward. "Lovegood, I-" And then he stopped, shutting his eyes and screwing up his face in pain. He stumbled into the shadows, turning his back to her. His breathing pattern had changed, as if he was holding it in. She could practically reach out and touch the aura of extreme pain around him. He was hurting. As he cried out softly, doubling over in pain and dropping quietly to the floor, she knew that she had to do something. She couldn't bear to see anyone or anything in pain. She had to do something.

Wordlessly, Luna stepped over towards him. She knelt down beside him, one of her pale hands resting gently on his shoulder. He winced at her touch, refusing to look at her. Without much thought, she sat directly next to him, wrapping her arms around him in what she knew to be a comforting hug.

At first, he was hesitant, stiffening at her kind touch. But then he collapsed, defeated, into her arms. She felt something wet drop onto her hand, and realized with a sharp tug in the pit of her stomach that he was crying. She sighed, her body relaxing against his.

"I..." He breathed, his voice breaking the pregnant silence that had stretched between them. "I have to go." His once calm voice was now filled with fear and dread, as if he was about to do something that he would deeply regret. He stood up quickly as if he was making a great effort in leaving her alone, his footsteps creaking on the wooden floor of the classroom.

Luna watched with wide eyes as he hurried to leave, watching his ghostly hands closing the door behind him carefully. Slowly, she abandoned her spot on the floor. The young witch stepped daintily over to one of the large, open windows, careful not to make too much sound for fear of disturbing anyone in the castle.

She pulled a stool over, stepping on it before resting her hands on the windowsill. The chilled wind blew over her face, refreshing her. She smiled as the cold air tousled her hair, blowing the pale yellow tresses out behind her. Luna sighed, closing her silver-blue eyes. All she could see was him. His smoke-coloured eyes that were so majestic, even her father's finest silverware would hide their faces in shame before the beautiful twin orbs.

She frowned as an unfamiliar tingling sensation pricked the tips of her toes, spreading through her veins slowly. The electricity inside of her blossomed, climbing up her body, washing over her like the ocean tide. Luna sighed contentedly, looking up at the sky. The dark space had been cloud-filled and overcast for so long, but tonight it was clear, every star was bright and smiling in the night sky.

Luna blinked, sure she was dreaming, when the stars began to move. Stars she didn't recognize as part of a constellation were zooming towards her window, until she could see that they weren't stars at all, they were small blueish-white balls of light, the centres no larger than the fingernail on her smallest finger. The orbs rearranged themselves in front of her, then moved, forming small lines and curves. She smiled to herself as she made sense of the designs, curious as to who would have charmed these lights to perform such a trick for her.

A simple sketch of a heart appeared in the air, produced by the orbs.

The drawing was charming, Luna had to admit. She looked around, all the windows in the castle were dark. But as quickly as they came, the charmed stars flew back into the sky, exploding into small showers of gold sparks. She smiled to herself, looking up at the sky.

She noticed a dim, greenish glow coming from one of the rooms a few floors below in the opposite tower, in what she knew to be the trophy room and armour gallery. The large window gave her acute gaze a clear view of the happenings in the regal room. Luna strained for a closer look, seeing a figure wrapped in a black cloak -presumably the Headmaster: Professor Severus Snape- standing at the window. He was looking out over the courtyard, and Luna ducked down to avoid being seen. If Professor Snape saw her, she would be dead. No, she would be _deader_ than dead.

"Lovegood." There it was again, that voice. The blonde witch stepped out of the window's view and into the darkness again. She realized that this really couldn't be the best idea, she could be fraternizing with a completely dark wizard for Merlin's sake! Or he could be a ghost -no, he was solid, _that_ she knew- or a Death Eater or a Slytherin or some other kind of despicable creature. Or worse, she could have hit her head harder than she thought, and this could all be a concussion-induced dream.

"Why are you here?" She asked quietly, walking away from her newfound companion once more. "This room's abandoned. Why do you use it?" Luna turned away and stepped back to the window, looking out of the space and into the dark sky. She felt his strong arms wrap around her body, his chin resting on the top of her head.

She thought about how easy it would be, to turn around and finally snap together the missing puzzle piece. Who was this mysterious dark stranger? Why was he here? Was he a safe person to be around? Could she trust him?

Luna felt tears come on -strange, it was, her crying. She rarely cried, and then, twice in one night?- as she realized something. She couldn't trust anybody. She was alone. So alone. She was a freak, just like they all said. Loony Lovegood, that's all she was.

He brushed her hair aside, she could feel his warm breath in her hair. "I think a better question is; why are _you_ here?" He retorted softly, his words accompanied by a small snicker. His strong, muscled arms gripped her body tighter, almost protectively, as if he was shielding her from something. She weakened. All it took was a little bit of love to make her feel better. She wanted to be loved, but, didn't every girl? Every girl wanted that perfect fairytale ending, that handsome prince to rescue them when their life went to the Flobberworms.

Luna had loved fairytales, always wishing for a happy ending. When there wasn't a happy ending, she would force her father to rewrite it so that everything turned out just the way she wanted it to. Luna soon learned that her father couldn't rewrite everything. He was only a mere wizard, after all. He couldn't rewrite history, the future, the present. His power was limited to books, to magazines, to newspapers. But in the kingdom of the written word, Xenophilius Lovegood was most certainly the king.

She was torn from her inner monologue as she felt something strange; his lips on her skin. He had tilted her ear towards her shoulder ever so slightly, inclining his head to brush his lips against her temple. She felt a subtle shiver run down her spine, integrating itself with the tingling feeling she had felt before. Luna sighed.

"Why are you here?" She murmured, deciding to ask him one more time. He gave a small sigh, moving one of his arms from around her, so as to allow himself to stroke her smooth cheek with the backs of his fingers. She felt the wind wash over them, and his warm breath whisper across her skin.

"Because I have nowhere else to go." He replied in his silky smooth tone. The touch of arrogance was gone, replaced by a sorrowful timber. A small 'hm' of muse escaped Luna's lips as she considered what he said. "These are desperate times, Luna Lovegood." He murmured. "And I have learned to 'tempt not a desperate man'."

Her ears listening acutely as he quoted William Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet' from act four, scene three. Luna tried not to remember the surrounding text from the small snippet of the quote, instead struggling to pay attention to what he was saying.

"I'm having issues with my friends, my parents, everybody." He continued. She could tell by the strain in his voice that it was hard for him to confess all this, that he wasn't used to talking about things. He seemed like the kind of person who kept their feelings all bottled up in separate little labeled bottles... compartmentalizing, that's what that was called. "I just don't know what to do, what with Professor Snape and Dumbledore being dead and-and-and..." He trailed off. Luna sighed, turning to rest her head in his chest.

He was standing just out of the light, so that all she got were pieces of him. His poignant eyes, his accented collarbone, his pale, finely muscled forearms, small sections of his hair. His hair was a truer blonde than her own, with darker patches at the roots, from what she could see. She couldn't see how it was cut or styled, she could only view parts on the side of his head.

"I know what you mean." Luna whispered against his chest. Her ear was pressed up against his heart, his arms holding her fast. She closed her translucent blue eyes, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heart. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, on and on it went, sending the two into a placid silence once more.

"I'm just... Confused. I mean, people expect one thing, but then I'd be going against what _I_ want to do, and it's just one bloody mess." He interrupted the silence once again, his voice nothing but gentle, almost apologetic. "Well, come on." He murmured somnolently. "Let's get some rest." Luna nodded, unable to contain a curious, lopsided smile as he took her hand in his.

It was nice to have a friend to hold her hand -both figuratively and literally- through all this. It made her feel like she wasn't so alone anymore. Like she had someone to be there for her, to be her rock when she was breaking. A secret friend that she could talk to. Something that was hers and only hers.

With the help of incantations and charms, they were finally able to conjure up two cots near the edge of the room, right under the window. Climbing into their respective beds, Luna couldn't help but notice the pain he seemed to be in, emotionally. She reached out a hand to grasp his, giving it a friendly squeeze.

"Everything's going to be alright." She reassured him in her vacant, singsong voice. Even in the darkness she could see him smile.

"I hope so, Luna. I hope so." He breathed. She would be lying if she didn't feel like she had heard this voice many times before. But who was it? Someone she knew, of that she was certain.

As her world faded into a dreamless sleep, Luna realized what the tingling sensation in her body was. She had thought it only fairytale, only fiction and never fact, but up until that moment, she had never truly believed in love at first sight.

The two companions fell asleep in their assuaging positions, fingers gently entwined with the other's. She was the first to fall asleep, her mystical eyes closing slowly before immediately being abducted into the dark realm of peaceful slumber.

He laid awake for almost half an hour, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way her one hand balled up the covers in her fist and held the blankets to her chest. The small smile inscribed on her lips as her breathing slowed into a more relaxed state.

He loved her. He really, truly loved her. She was such a character, such an unusual person. She was unlike any of the other cookie cutter witches that Hogwarts supplied. Luna Lovegood was content with being exactly who she was. He had had no idea how to approach her, but at last, he hadn't needed to. She had, stumbled upon him during his dark times.

He was still thinking of her when he fell asleep, and whenever he woke up shaking during the night, he thought of her once more.

Love.

Love was what brought them together.

Love was why she didn't look up at him or light her wandtip to see her mysterious companion.

Love was why he came back from the Dark Lord's summons and didn't break down crying.

Love was what brought them together.

Love was what will drive them apart.

Love.

**Preview:**

"**She was patient, her actions never hurried or tense. She allowed her life to unravel before her, and even in the face of danger kept a gently stoic visage. Luna didn't wear masks; she instead wore her heart, mind, and soul on her sleeve."**


	2. kiss your scars

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"I wanna kiss your scars tonight, baby."_

* * *

She didn't know.

She didn't know that he had woken up early, just to watch her sleep peacefully. A smile was brought to his lips, different from his usual smirk, as he noticed that her fingertips were still connected with his own. Their hands were no longer clasped together, but the tips of their fingers brushed against each other's. He sighed.

The mere image of her was that of an angel. She _was_ an angel. She was his angel. The way her radiant blonde hair splayed out on the plump honey-coloured pillow at her head, a few locks falling into her albescent porcelain face. Her rosy lips were twisted into a smaller version of her signature dreamy smile, her eyebrows arched slightly as if she was keeping a secret locked inside of her. Her enchanting pale stormy-blue eyes were closed beneath long, pale lashes, but he knew them well enough that he could see every rattling detail when he closed his own. They were a mythical pale cerulean blue, painted with a metallic silver sheen so that they seemed almost mirror-like, but with a certain quality of transparency.

Yes, she was his angel.

He was hit with a sudden realization of how dark it was, it must be quite early in the morning. He stood up slowly, careful not to wake his companion. If she awoke, she would recognize him and probably run away. He couldn't have that. He had been working up all the courage that he possessed to approach her, but every time he did, he said something stupid or just plain cruel. When he made blundering efforts to be kind, she only saw his other self, the one that was friendly only when he wanted something or was setting his latest victim up for a crashing insult.

He successfully got rid of his cot with a flick of his handsome hawthorn wand. He dragged his ash-grey eyes from Luna's innocent, sleeping form, and sent them staring into the outside world. The sky was painted an array of soft purples that faded and changed to a scheme of bright pinks, which mixed pleasantly with the striking oranges. The bright sun was making itself visible over the tops of the trees, rising slowly with a proud smile.

He never would have thought that he would appreciate the beauty of anything, having been raised to believe in superiority and power. A sunrise had no power, it had no spectacular lineage, it had no money, it had no material possessions, it had no influence over the Ministry of Magic or the school board.

But then he noticed Luna, _really_ noticed Luna. She had always been Loony Lovegood to him, a blonde-haired crazy person who saw the world through those crazy kaleidoscope glasses she had gotten in a copy of that nutter magazine her father wrote.

And then, when the Dark Lord returned to power, he realized how much he envied her. _He_ wanted to see the wicked world from a new perspective. He wanted purity. He could see the wonder in her patrician, gentle eyes as she spoke or merely listened, the dreams she conjured out of thin air. One could see the wheels turning in her head as inspiration knocked patiently at her mind's door.

She was so transparent, so innocent, so delicate. She had a knack for speaking the uncomfortable or unfortunate truth, not worrying about being too painfully honest or damaging reputations. But Luna showed that she was also capable of a greater, more powerful love than anyone could ever truly understand. She had spoken only calm and soothing words when the emotions of her friends got too out of hand. She suffered angry blows from anyone mad enough to turn on her, insults falling like raindrops in a thunderstorm. Yet her serene air was enough to bring a comforting lull to anyone's dismal spirit.

She was patient, her actions never hurried or tense. She allowed her life to unravel before her, and even in the face of danger kept a gently stoic visage. Luna didn't wear masks; she instead wore her heart, mind, and soul on her sleeve.

Luna had caught his eye in his fifth year. He had gone for a walk in the grounds to clear his head, lying to his friends that he was ill. They understood him to be violently sick in the Prefect's bathroom with severe nausea and a violent migraine. In reality he had been sitting in a high branch of a large shade tree.

_"It's alright. I won't hurt you." A phantasmagoric female voice said quietly, her tone reassuring. The blonde boy's vicious grey eyes snapped open, and he pulled his hawthorn wand out of his jacket pocket. He looked down from his perch in a large shade tree, unable to match a person to the currently bodiless voice._

_Then he saw her. She was standing several metres away from him, the angle a perfect view of her seraphic face. Her entrancingly light blonde hair flowed carelessly down to the middle of her back in soft, tousled waves, almost like a halo. From the distance between them, he could not see the colour of her eyes, puzzled as he tried to make sense of whether they were a startling azure, or a shining grey. Her svelte frame was, as usual, clothed uniquely. Her jeans were ripped in a few places, the light blue denim fabric completely cut off just below her knees. Her torso wore an overlarge white chemise, the cuffs folded neatly at the ends of her wrists. A dark, periwinkle cardigan completed her original ensemble, but anyone would agree that she could pass for normal, save for the fact that she was currently barefoot._

_His mouth opened slightly as he realized what he was doing, and exactly who had __struck his interest. Luna Lovegood. He had never thought himself capable of feeling emotions so painfully acute and intense. He had heard about this rare phenomena, but shrugged it off multiple times. Members of his family weren't capable of _this_, whatever it was. They couldn't be._

_Luna was holding something in her hand, and as it lifted itself invisibly in the air, it disappeared. The grey-eyed boy wrinkled his nose in distaste as he realized what it was: raw meat. He blinked slowly, his ears suddenly sensitive to a low nickering. Luna broke into wide smile, and reached her hand out to stroke what appeared to be the air. He frowned, but then remembered again. Thestrals. He had overheard that Luna had seen her mum die, and that only those who saw death could see the mysterious creatures. _

_"Aren't your feet cold?" A familiar voice asked politely. The blonde boy's cold eyes narrowed as Harry Potter walked into his field of vision. Luna smiled, displaying a hint of slightly discoloured teeth. Harry Potter stayed exactly where he was as Luna held out an identical piece of raw meat that disappeared just as quickly as the last._

_"A bit. But all my shoes have mysteriously disappeared. I suspect the Nargles are behind it." The Ravenclaw girl replied in her lilting accent, her tone thoughtful. The Boy Who Lived let out a small noise of confused agreement, as if he seriously had taken into consideration what Luna had said. His green eyes watched one of the Thestrals that the blonde boy could not see. The latter's own gaze turned to Luna, watching as her expression changed slightly. "They're called Thestrals. They're quiet gentle, really, but people tend to avoid them because they're a bit..."_

_"Different." The dark-haired Gryffindor boy said quietly. Luna inclined her head in an empty nod, her eyes -they were a mix of blue and grey, he could see that now- turning back to the invisible Thestrals. The boy up in the tree bristled. Why couldn't Harry Potter just leave? It's not like he didn't have anywhere else to be, right? Where was his entourage now? Why wasn't he with Weasley and Granger as usual? Why couldn't he just go away?_

He gave a quiet sigh as the memory came back. He walked softly back into the shadows, picking up the once high-end broom off of the floor. "Goodbye, Luna." He whispered, taking one last look at her before mounting the broom and kicking quietly off of the creaky hardwood. As he zoomed skillfully out of the open window, he felt the wind blow his pale hair around, rushing over his scalp. He touched back down on the top of the turret that held the Divination room, gripping the point of the conical shape.

It was him, and only him in this magical moment. A mere moment to gather his intense feelings, and shrink back into his mask. He had to push aside his yearning for Luna Lovegood, and face the world with a proud, cruel face and sneer. After all, what else was Draco Malfoy good for?

Back inside the classroom, Luna was coming to the end of her halcyon, undisturbed slumber. As her mind flicked to a half-awake state, her recollection of last night flooded her subconscious.

_Luna whirled down the hallways merrily, the spring in her step prominent, as always. She hummed a small tune to herself, the words matching the melody appearing in her intelligent mind. Luna wasn't much of a singer, singing only when she felt the need to share her precious song with the rest of the world. _

_As she neared the grand wooden doors of the library, a curious look sprung onto her face. She let out a quiet grunt of effort as she pushed on the heavy doors with all of her strength. She had such a petite frame, and wasn't incredible muscled or athletic. In fact, she had had people approach her with pamphlets about eating disorders. In her third year, one person even had the nerve to conjure a gust of wind out of his wand and tease her that she was going to blow away if she didn't ground herself properly._

_The bully, in fact, was Justin Finch-Fletchey. He was a year older than her, and loved to bother people. It was a surprising nature for a Hufflepuff student to own, but the brown-haired boy built his entire reputation on nasty jokes -not harmless ones, like the Weasley twins had performed- that broke people up messily. Unfortunately, he was part of Dumbledore's Army, and the small group needed all the help they could get. Justin was cunning. One could not use the term 'intelligent' when referring to him, but he was truly a master of his art. He was both strategic and wicked, also having a fortunate habit of remembering little things that others might overlook. _

_The young blonde witch stepped softly into the library, turning and pressing her weight against the door to close it. Satisfied once she had heard the bolt emit a soft click as it slid shut, Luna turned back to the shelf-filled room. She walked stealthily around the large maze of tall bookshelves and long study tables._

_Luna absentmindedly touched her fingers to the undiluted, stained-bistre birch table. She stretched her other arm to have her fingertips dance across the edge of an identical piece of furniture on her other side. As she walked quickly, almost fairy-like, her fingernails skimmed the surfaces of the two study tables._

_"So, Gin, where's Loooony Lovegood?" A familiar adenoidal voice pierced the silence, and Luna's mouth twisted up in a small smile that was both surprised and curious. Her silver-blue eyes twinkled with intrigue. Why was Ginny with Michael Corner? The Weasley daughter barely acknowledged his existence anymore, not since her fourth year. Michael and Ginny had had a vicious breakup that year, which resulted in the fiery redhead running into the comforting chamoisée arms of Dean Thomas. _

_She let go of her connection to the twin tables, creeping up behind a bookshelf. Luna wavered on her next step as she neared where she suspected where Ginny and Michael were talking. She frowned at her raised, sneaker-clad foot, placing it back down on the handsome navy blue carpet beside her other. Too curious for words, the young Ravenclaw student poked her head around the corner of a bookshelf._

_Sitting in the small semi-circle of comfortable armchairs and loveseats -the fabric an unfortunate monochromatic paisley pattern, that matched the carpets with three different shades of navy blue- was Michael Corner, Zacharias Smith, the Patil twins, Colin Creevey, and none other than Ginny Weasley._

_Luna quickly returned her head to her unofficial hiding place, blinking repeatedly. She hoisted herself up on the desk quietly, only making a few small scuffles as she crossed her legs under her. She stared blankly at the floor in front of her, concentrating on the small blue loops of the nylon carpet. Why was Ginny with that unsuspected group of students? Why wasn't she with Dean, or Seamus, or any of their other friends? Why did she choose _these_ people?_

_Ginny had no reason to go to Michael, but he had become friends with Zacharias Smith over the past year. Luna frowned. Why was _Zacharias_ there? When Zacharias had abandoned the DA, he had been shut out by their close-knit circle of friends. Why was he here now? The Patil twins, well that was obvious. Michael Corner was extremely good looking, Luna had to admit. Padma and Parvati had had a small quarrel over which one of them would get a boyfriend first, seeing as neither had had one since their third year. They were trying to ensnare him, competing against each other. In Luna's own personal opinion, neither of them were winning. _

_The young blonde witch had grown to be extremely observant, studying people. People only saw her as a strange girl with a vacant stare, they didn't realize that she saw everything clearly. It was easy for her, standing out, but blending in nicely. No one took her seriously, which was undeniably frustrating, but Luna had considered that this unfortunate state was positive. She could observe, study, consider, calculate, and dream, all at the same moment, and nobody would think anything of it. _

_She blinked as she tried to understand exactly what had brought Colin Creevey to the meeting. It dawned on her that, with Harry Potter being gone, Ginny Weasley was the next best thing, aside from Neville Longbottom. The younger boy was always tagging along after Neville or Ginny, pleading in his high-pitched voice -it had changed only slightly when he hit puberty- if they could give him any information they had on Harry Potter._

_Now Ginny was the real puzzle. Why was _she_ with this unusual group? Why __wasn't she with their other friends? Why wasn't she with _Luna_, for lack of a better option?_

_'Maybe they're the only ones in the DA available.' She mused silently to herself. The voices of the strange group lowered, as if they knew somebody was listening in. Luna frowned, her plan thwarted. They were whispering in lower voices than she knew they were capable of. Her lackadaisical eyes brightened as an idea raised its gentle hand deep inside her mind. Luna reached into her pocket, and pulled out one of the Weasley twins' Extendable Ears. She, as well as other members of the DA, would use them to listen in on faculty conversations so as to prepare themselves for the expected hell that You Know Who's army would throw upon them._

_"... so I said that I'd help him." Parvati finished. Luna heard Padma give a dry chuckle._

_"Anyway." Michael's voice broke the tension again as the twins began to argue quietly once more. "Ginny, where _is_ your horrid little wood nymph?" _

_"Wood nymph..? Luna?" Ginny asked._

_"Yeah. Her." Michael's voice dripped with disdain. Luna blinked, cocking her head to the side. A 'horrid little wood nymph'? Is that what Michael thought of her?_

_"I've said it before and I'll say it again." Zacharias' repulsive voice interrupted Ginny's attempt to speak. "That Lovegood girl, is such a wack job. A real nutter, that one is." A small laugh, was it Michael's? "We should wrap her up in brown paper and owl her off to a circus!" The twins giggled in unison and Michael Corner threw in a soft snort of laughter for good measure. Luna could practically hear the pride radiating off of Zacharias' inflated ego as the thrill of an audience got to his already large head. _

_"Put the freak in a freak show!" Luna was struck dumb at the words. If they had come from anyone else's lips, she wouldn't have batted even one pale eyelash. But it was Ginny, who said those words. It was Ginny Weasley, her dearest friend in the world, and she had called Luna a freak. _

_Luna felt hot teardrops spring to the brims of her eyes almost immediately. She stowed the Extendable Ear back in her pocket, and hopped off the desk. Slowly, she walked out from behind the bookshelf, into the small meeting place._

_"Do you think I'm a freak, Ginny?" She asked honestly, her voice just as dreamy as ever, but with a pained undertone coursing through it. The redheaded girl's pretty brown eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in a regretful 'o'. Ginny stood up, staring directly at Luna. The blonde's once seemingly vacant stare was now filled with sorrow, betrayal, distrust. _

_"Luna..." Ginny breathed. Luna saw, in her peripheral vision, Zacharias Smith stifle a laugh into the back of his hand. Colin's jaw had dropped to the floor, his sparkling eyes wide. He lifted up his camera slowly -he had received a new one from his parents after Peeves broke the old one- but it was gentle lowered by a shocked Parvati Patil. Padma was watching Michael to see his reaction before copying it exactly, her gaze flickering from the two girls to his face every couple seconds. Michael was staring up at the two girls, a mixture of amusement, intrigue, and dismay chiseled into his handsome face._

_Ginny reached out an arm and took a step closer to Luna, who took a step back. "Luna, please. Don't be like this." The youngest Weasley attempted to reason with the blonde girl. Luna shook her head, her mane of white-blonde hair falling in her eyes. She brushed the unruly locks out of her field of vision angrily, her usually smiling face contorted in pure sadness, nothing more._

_"Don't be like what, Ginny?" She asked quietly, the tears almost spilling over. The redheaded girl sighed. _

_"Don't be mad." She ran a hand through her ginger hair. "I didn't..."_

_"No." Luna shook her head in lament. Ginny let out another sigh. "I thought that you were my friend." The Ravenclaw witch's voice was wavering, barely a whisper._

_"Luna, I _am_ your friend." Ginny replied in a reassuring tone. Luna shook her head again, this time with a bit more of her anger. She rarely showed fury, rarely having cause to be unhappy. But betrayal was one thing that she couldn't handle._

_"No. Friends don't call each other _freaks_ behind each other's backs." She said icily. Luna spun on her heel and began to run away, out of library and into the castle._

"Luna! Luna! It's time to wake up!" The familiar mellifluous soprano voice of her pocket watch sang. Luna opened her eyes sleepily, it was tempting to lower them once more and drift back into her deep sleep. Suddenly, she sat straight up, unable to remember where she was and why she was there. This wasn't her dormitory room.

She remembered quickly, giving a small, Luna-like sigh as Ginny's harsh words and the embarrassed look on her ex-friend's face appeared cautiously at her mind's figurative door. She stood up from her cot, slipping her sneakers back on and tying the laces tightly.

She pulled her rosewood wand out of her pocket and murmured the Vanishing spell and the cot disappeared without a trace. A slight, curious frown invited itself onto Luna's delicate face. There was a boy here, a young man. Where was he? His penetrative pastel charcoal eyes were branded on the insides of her eyelids. If she ever saw him again, she would know exactly who he was. She would, being Luna, confess her fascination with him. No, not fascination; _love_. She would confess her _love_ for him.

The corners of her lips turned up in a small, awry smile as she remembered her former companion. What she wouldn't give to see him again. They had spent most of their time in silence, but a silence that she treasured dearly.

Soundlessly, Luna slipped out of the Divination room, locking the door behind her. She stole through the castle, wary of anyone that might be lurking about, ready to rat her out to the Headmaster or any one of the villainous Death Eaters.

Victory was manifested in her smile as she prosperously reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. The handsome bronze eagle blinked its gentle eyes, opening its beak to riddle her.

"A small Hippogriff is the son of a large Hippogriff, but the large Hippogriff is not the father of the small Hippogriff. How is this possible?" Luna didn't despair as the cryptic question was asked, though most students would wince in having to think this early in the morning. After a few short moments the answer dawned on her.

She replied with a quiet utterance of "The large Hippogriff is the mother of the small Hippogriff." The eagle bowed its graceful head and allowed her passage. She slipped into the common room, thankful that it was empty of any students. She wandered up the stairs to her dormitory, where her roommates were wrapped up in their deep slumbers.

Sophia Evans was snoring quietly, as usual, which brought a slightly amused smile to Luna's lips. Ebony Collins' curly black hair was spread out on her pillow, her bangs pulled away from her kind face with a small handful of hairclips. Phoebe Kerr was doubled over in a fetal position as she always was, the blankets on the bed balled up around her. Luna slid under the covers of her own bed, gently setting her shoes beside her bed. She lay there quietly, wide awake, appreciating the stillness and silence of the morning.

"Good morning, Luna." Ebony sat up, stretching out her mocha-coloured arms. Ebony was a stunning girl, almost Amazon-like. She was tall, stretching to five feet and eleven inches, nine inches taller than petite Luna Lovegood. Her face was beautiful, any girl who knew Ebony was jealous. She had full, pouting lips that were usually pursed in her small, shy smile. Her nose was small and pointed; the end turned up slightly to give her a confident air. Her face itself was portrait-like, her skin, flawless. Her dark brown eyes didn't have a lot of depth, but there was often a competitive, hungry fire burning behind them. Ebony had hip-length black hair that fell in a cascade of tight, dark ringlets that were straightened out with magic every single morning, not that they needed to be. Her horizontal bangs were cut just above her eyes, running straight across her statuesque face.

Ebony was very competitive, she was a Beater for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and played to win. She had a body that girls would kill for, and carried herself with a proud confidence that nobody could match. She reminded Luna of Professor McGonagall in personality; firm and polite, but with a warm heart.

"Good morning!" Luna replied cheerfully, sitting up. A look of surprise passed on Ebony's face as the taller girl noticed Luna's lack of change of clothes. But the expression soon faded, nothing Luna did surprised anyone in this room anymore. Sophia let out a groan as Ebony tossed a pillow at her, hitting its mark squarely.

Sophia was very different from Ebony, the seventeen year old with light brown hair and hazel eyes a complete firecracker. Sophia was undeniably intelligent, her IQ stretching to 177. She was truly one in a million. She was what one would call pretty, but not exactly beautiful or gorgeous, like Ebony. _Nobody_ was gorgeous compared to Ebony. Her naturally dark brown hair was currently a light, caramel brown, with highlights of a honey-blonde streaked in carefully. Sophia had a tan from spending most of her summer vacation on cruises and sunny French beaches, a tan that, if one were to ask a fellow student or friend, would be considered near-perfect. Her eyes were a harmonic mixture of green, grey, and brown, and always gave Sophia the look of keeping a secret.

Phoebe was an odd character, her hair bleached almost white, and cut jaggedly -she had done it herself... in the dark- below her chin. Her stoic green eyes always looked cold and unapproachable, the fact that she had her lip pierced not helping the first impression she made on first years. In reality, the homosexual sixth-year was one of the most charming people Luna had ever met. She was known for her dry sense of humour and vicious sarcasm, but was one of the wittiest and funniest people Luna had had the pleasure to meet. Her skin was only lightly tanned, just from spending lots of time outside. She was slightly taller than Luna, and gently teased the other girl about it frequently.

"Good morning, lovely ladies!" Phoebe chirped, bounding out of bed, staying true to her constant likeness to a puppy. "Let's go down to breakfast, shall we?" She turned her back to the three girls, stripped off her shirt and quickly changed into her school clothes, hoisting her skirt up higher than most girls wore theirs.

The four girls bustled around for a few minutes, Sophia taking time to do her make up, and Ebony with her wand tip at her hair, supervising it so that every curl unfurled into a pin-straight shape.

"I was wondering," Luna mused. "May I sit with you guys today?" She asked. Phoebe stuck her head out from behind her bed, where she was looking for her other shoe.

"Lu, that's a dumb question." She snorted. "You don't have to ask, hon'." She ran a hand through her bleached hair and sighed, going back to her hunt for the lost shoe.

"Is _this_ your shoe, Phoe?" Ebony held up one black shoe with a finger. Phoebe leaped over her bed and took the shoe from Ebony.

"Yeah." She nodded, slamming it onto her once-bare right foot. "Where was it?" She asked curiously. The Amazon-like girl rolled her dark eyes.

"On the windowsill, where you put it before you were pretending to be a Hippogriff." She replied, the corner of her mouth twitching, leading into a smile. Phoebe sighed.

"Right. I forgot about that." She gave a small shrug. Luna looked up from tying her blue and bronze tie, her eyes sparkling in amusement. "Hey, I want to know where Luna was." Phoebe pointed a finger in Luna's direction. Sophia popped her head out from the bathroom.

"Did you meet a boy?" She teased, one eye closing and opening sharply in a wink. Luna smiled back at her.

"Actually, I think I did." She replied calmly. Phoebe fell off the bed with a loud thud, quickly picking herself up and hopping onto Ebony's bed. Ebony's eyes went wide, and Sophia dropped her eyeshadow brush and palette. "I don't know if he was real or not." Luna thought aloud, realizing that she could have just hit her head particularly hard on the stone floor.

"Tell. Me. Everything." Phoebe demanded, her tone a confusing mix of seriousness and avidity. Ebony nodded in agreement, her gaze trained on Luna, who smiled.

Luna relayed everything to them, from Ginny's insult to the fascinating colour of her male companions eyes, from stepping into the abandoned Divination classroom to his episode of pain.

When she was finished telling her roommates everything -save for her possibility of being in love- about the previous night, Phoebe was leaning so far off the bed that she, once again, fell off of it.

"Holy _shit_." The other blonde girl said quietly from her seat on the floor. Sophia smacked her on the head with her toothbrush.

"_Language_, Phoebe!" She reprimanded her roommate sternly. Ebony was completely still, Luna could tell that she was thinking seriously about the whole affair.

"So, you don't know who he is?" Ebony asked. Luna shook her head serenely.

"Not a clue." She gave a small shrug.

"Well, we're going to find him." Phoebe said defiantly, like she was a soldier arming up for war. "Alright troops, Operation Find-Luna-Her-Mystery-Man-Because-He-Sounds-Completely-Amazing-And-Also-I-Want-To-Meet-Him... commence!" Ebony mock-saluted, and Sophia rolled her eyes. Luna grinned.

For a while, at least, they could forget the troubles in the world, they could forget that people were dying around them, that the Hogwarts administration was ruled by corruption.

But only for a while.

As the four sixth-year Ravenclaw girls made their merry way to breakfast, Luna's mind was, quite evidently, elsewhere. She was still deep in thought about the blonde-haired object of her affections. There were plenty of girls walking about in various shades of blonde, with eyes that were presumably grey. The boys, however, were quite scarce in numbers.

Luna knew that there was something about her mysterious companion, something she couldn't quite place. Her gut was nagging at her, insisting that she knew them, that she knew them better than she was aware of. Something told her that she had stared into those spectacular eyes on more than one occasion, and had felt nothing remotely close to any form of affection. Something told her that she knew that precise shade of blonde hair, the small, hesitant smile. She knew him. But she couldn't figure out who in Merlin's name he was. She didn't know his name, his house, even what age he was. Luna Lovegood could only be sure of one thing, and one thing only; he was real.

"What about Abberley?" Phoebe's silvery voice broke Luna's metaphoric train of thought as it coursed around her mind, chugging pleasantly on its track.

"Abberley?" Ebony snorted, her tone sopping wet with aversion. "_Tobias_ Abberley?" Sophia raised one carefully penciled eyebrow.

"What about him?" The brunette asked, her voice taking on a curious flavour. Ebony rolled her beautiful brown eyes as if it was painstakingly obvious.

"Sweetie, he's _gay_." The darker girl replied with a toss of her magnificent head. Phoebe raised and lowered her bony shoulders in an indifferent shrug, scuffing a foot on the flagstone floor and shoving her pale hands deep into her pockets.

"So?" She retorted, desperate to find a lead which would draw a new path onto her mission. Ebony let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Phoe, why would he be sending love poems and holding Luna's hand if he's _gay_?" She argued her point forthrightly, causing her debate opponent to give a small scowl in her direction before losing herself back in her lists of boys with blonde hair and grey eyes. "Besides," Ebony said quietly. "His eyes are green." The four words earned her another scowl from Phoebe, who was obviously discontented with her suggestion being so quickly shot down.

The rest of the walk down to the Great Hall was in silence, until they reached the doors, and Sophia said at last: "Septimus Hark, maybe?" She pointed an index finger at the Hufflepuff table, where a very tall seventh-year boy was sitting, his back facing the quartet of Ravenclaw girls. Luna frowned curiously, hoisting her book bag higher onto her shoulder and drifting cursorily over to where the lanky boy was sitting with his friends, laughing over a seemingly hilarious joke that the dark-haired girl across from him had made.

"Septimus Hark?" She asked in her gossamer voice. He turned his body abruptly to look at the person who had called his name. Luna frowned, his eyes were a deep blue-grey. She stared into them, her head tilted slightly to the side as she considered him. His hair had a distinct wave to it, and was far darker than that of the young wizard she was in love with. It had a distinctive curl to it, and a few unruly locks flopped playfully into his well-defined face.

"You're... Luna, right?" He grinned as she nodded slowly, not taking her silvery-blue gaze off of his face. The cut of his jaw was generous, sharp, his structure chiselled and regal. His skin had been tanned, and Luna couldn't help thinking that he reminded her of a Golden Retriever she had once met. "Can I help you?" He asked, his voice wavering slightly. Luna's studious expression changed into an incontrovertible reassuring look as she sensed her close eye was making Septimus uncomfortable.

"Not at the moment, I'm afraid. I thought you might be someone other than who you are, but you're not, because you're Septimus." She explained, her voice still as ruminative as it usually was. Leaving the poor Hufflepuff sitting at the table wearing patented looks of pure confusion, she danced over to the Ravenclaw table, calmly taking a seat.

Luna couldn't help but flash a glance over at the Gryffindor table, where Ginny was sitting, chatting away to Parvati Patil. A feeling of longing pulsed through her, but then the redheaded girl met her eyes. Ginny's animated expression promptly slid off her lovely face, dropping onto her breakfast plate. Her doe-like, whiskey-brown eyes locked with Luna's china-blue gaze, before the latter looked away.

Sophia blinked as the younger girl sat across from her, a clamantly shocked look on her face. "I can't believe you just did that." She murmured, her tone revealing nothing but vexation. Luna looked back at her friend with interested eyes. Her eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity, eager to hear Sophia out.

"Can't believe I just did what?" She asked airily. Ebony sighed from her place beside Sophia.

"Sweetie, what you just did. With Sep. In front of everybody." She explained, her beautiful face twisted with mild chagrin. She reached a dark hand over and patted Luna's. "But, it's alright." She broke into a reassuring smile, which Luna returned.

"Alright." Luna said cheerily. A slight frown furrowed her eyebrows. "I wasn't being 'socially unacceptable', was I?" She asked, using the term Sophia had associated with her. Phoebe snorted into her pumpkin juice, causing Luna to turn her head to the side, looking directly at her friend. "What?" The blue-eyed girl asked innocently at the amused look on Phoebe's face.

"Nothing, Lu." She shook her head and grinned. Ebony let out a loud breath, signifying that that was the absolute end of the conversation, and there was no further room for negotiation on the matter. Phoebe continued to snicker for a few seconds, but stopped abruptly at a stern look from Ebony.

"So..." Ebony began awkwardly. "Looks like we're going to be in for a bit of rain." She nodded her head towards the ceiling, where the skies were indeed beginning to cloud a stormy grey. Phoebe grinned.

"Yeah, and your hair's going to frizz up in Herbology class!" She teased. Ebony shot her a glare and put a fine-boned hand to her precious hair, as if to protect it from the weather. Sophia moaned.

"And my make up's going to run!" She pouted, conjuring up a compact mirror with a swish and flick of her oak wand, like she was worried that it might have been ruined with the mere _mention_ of precipitation. Phoebe chuckled, piling her plate high with bacon. At the disgusted look she received from both Ebony and Sophia, she made a face and added a couple sausages to the mountain.

"That's _disgusting_, Phoe." Ebony scrutinized. The paler girl stuck out her tongue, displaying the small indigo-blue metal ball on the end of it. Ebony cringed. "Dear Merlin, put that thing away where I can't see it." She put a hand to the side of her face, blocking her view of Phoebe, who proceeded of cram a forkful of bacon into her wide-grinning mouth.

"Luna," Sophia artfully switched the topic, directing her attention to the girl sitting across from her. Luna looked back at her friend with a patient expression. "Did you do your Ancient Runes homework?" She asked. Luna nodded, her signature smile back on her face.

"Of course." She replied, palming a tea biscuit and breaking the mouthwatering object in two semi-equal pieces with her fingers. "I suppose you did, as well." She looked back at Sophia, phrasing her answer more like a statement than a question. Sophia flashed a smile and nodded, affirming what Luna had just implied. Luna turned back to her biscuit, picking up the butter knife and spreading a thin layer of butter on both halves.

The rest of breakfast led to mostly small conversation, nothing mind-blowing or ground-breaking coming up as a topic. Each girl kept a mindful eye on the staff table, watching carefully in case one of the Death Eaters tried anything particularly malign or malefic. Ebony and Sophia listed off a few more possibilities for Luna's mystery man, and the daydreaming young girl decided that as she ran into the individuals, she would try to find out if either of them were the boy that she had fallen in love with.

The four girls had their first class together -Charms with Professor Flitwick- before they went their separate ways for their respective second classes. They left the Great Hall with Sophia leading the way, Luna dragging behind as she stared up at the ceiling, with Ebony and Phoebe bickering in the middle.

Luna was lost deep in thought, barely noticing anything around her. She wasn't thinking about the gentleman she had helplessly fallen for, not even having to share her next class with the Gryffindors, independently one Ginevra Molly Weasley. She was thinking about Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger. They hadn't arrived at school at the beginning of the semester, and Luna hadn't even seen them since Bill and Fleur's wedding. Luna prayed that they were alright, that they hadn't been killed.

These were dark times, and the trio gave people hope. Hope that You Know Who wouldn't have his skeletal grip on their lives forever. Merely mentioning the name of the Chosen One would inspire confidence into the hearts of the wizarding world. Harry Potter, though he didn't always try to exalt courage, he steeled the hearts of soldiers everywhere, not just in Britain. Communities all over the world had heard of The Boy Who Lived, and every magical-family-born child knew the story of Lily Evans' love that saved her son from the savage clutch of He Who Must Not Be Named.

"Oi, Luna!" The blonde-haired girl heard her name called from what sounded like far away, and turned at a leisurely pace to see a tall, dark-haired figure loping towards her.

"Neville!" She smiled brightly, her eyes shining. Neville Longbottom was undeniably one of her dearest friends. He was quiet, usually, happy to sit and listen to the younger girl talk about how the air was particularly full of Wrackspurts that day, or the illegal capturing of Moon Frogs from their natural habitat, or even things as simple -compared to the latter subjects- as a philosophical or paradoxical question.

"I heard about what Ginny said." The tone in the Gryffindor boy's voice was concerned, and Luna could see his startling blue eyes search her face for any trace sign of unhappiness. Luna sighed, looking up and thinking for a moment.

"It's alright, I suppose." She said quietly. "I mean, people say things like that all the time." She gave a small shrug, feeling small standing next to Neville. She hadn't felt so small in a long time, she never noticed her personality compared to others. But Ginny's words had made her think, really stop and think. Was she really _that_ different? _Was she_ a freak?

Neville shook his head firmly. "No, Luna. It's not alright." He replied, his voice low in volume with an unfamiliar growling edge to it. "You're worth more than that." The gruff edge was softened, his tone almost loving. He sighed, and placed both of his hands on her shoulders. "You're one hell of a person, Luna Lovegood." He broke into a shy smile. "You really are."

"Thank you, Neville." Luna positively beamed. "That was really, very, sweet of you." The seventh-year's gentle face flushed and he bashfully averted his eyes from the younger girl's slightly disquieting stare. He was obviously trying to hide a smile, which Luna made up for with her own cheerful face. He dropped his hands from her shoulders, taking one of her smooth hands in his.

"No problem." He said softly. Luna looked down at his hands, wearing a speculative expression. They were rough, large, quite unlike any hands she was used to. She meditated over the opinion that they matched Neville's internal self quite impeccably. Strong, sturdy, with a moderately worn quality. Hands that you knew you could fall back on, hands that would caress you if you were hurt.

"I have to go to Charms now." She said bluntly, noticing Neville's slightly crestfallen reaction. "But I'll probably see you later." She smiled, giving one of his hands a reassuring pat. "Just, don't give the Carrows too much trouble?" She cocked her head to the side and he nodded, his cheeks still possessing a hint of pink.

Still glowing, Luna turned back to see that her friends had already left. She checked her pocket watch and her eyes widened. If she wasn't up on the second floor in the Charms corridor in two minutes, she was going to be late for Charms class. Launching herself into a full-out sprint, Luna raced down the halls and up one of the staircases, careful to miss the two trick stairs. She groaned as one of the staircases began to change, and she ran up it as fast as she could. She didn't have _time_ for them to return to normal, she needed to take her chance _now_!

She leaped to arrive at the proper floor, and was a fraction of a second too late. She fell onto the hard flagstone, hitting her right shoulder on the railing. With a groan of pain, she stood up, keeping on going. Going to class was better than lying there for the Carrows to come around and find her helpless on the floor.

**Preview:**

"**She waited patiently as he struggled to compose himself, his cold grey eyes freezing back into their stoic stare and the corner of his lip turning up with malice. "I'm _fine_." He snarled through gritted teeth."**


	3. hold tight

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"So hold tight, this is not a fair fight."_

* * *

She slid into her seat beside Ivy just as Professor Flitwick was about to start the day's lesson. Today they would be practicing the Aguamenti Charm, which most of the Ravenclaw students had already tried at least once.

Luna couldn't help but notice, as she opened her copy of 'The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 6' that Professor Flitwick looked particularly uneasy today. As soon as the class was given permission to start practising filling their goblets with the conjured water Charm, Luna stood up with her book as if to ask a question, and marched over to Flitwick's desk, where the professor was standing atop the chocolate-brown piece of furniture. She set her book down and looked up at the small old man, their eyes of an eerily similar colour meeting.

"Are you alright, Professor?" She asked quietly. "You seem frightened." Flitwick wrung his wrinkled hands, trying and failing to mask his worry with a casual smile.

"Oh, my dear girl, that's because I _am_." He whispered. "I _am_." Luna frowned up at him, opening her mouth to ask a further questions. He cut her off with a nod. "About you-know-what." He continued, his squeaky voice low, careful not to let anyone else hear their private conversation. "There's some _very_ funny business going around, Miss Lovegood. Some very funny business indeed." Her eyes widened in understanding. "Now, Luna, my dear. I'm telling you this because I know you won't breathe a word to anyone else." His tone was serious, grave, as if someone had just died. In all likelihood, somebody probably had. "Severus has been spending more time in the Astronomy tower than I've ever known him to. I suspect there's a plot afoot." He brought the book nearer to his face and gestured for Luna to come closer. "I think it would be a _very_ good idea if you, Miss Weasley, and Mr Longbottom finished what Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, and Miss Granger started two years ago." The young Ravenclaw caught the drift of her petite professor, remembering back to her fourth year when Dumbledore's Army came into play. "Do you understand?" He raised his voice slightly for this last phrase; this was a signal to Luna that the conversation had been terminated. The look in his periwinkle eyes gave it away that he was also waiting for her to accept the responsibility of his secret.

"Thank you Professor, I understand." She replied cheerfully before whisking herself away to her seat next to Ivy, who was performing the Aguamenti Charm with ease.

Luna slipped her wand from behind her ear, and pointed the tip into the round cup of the goblet. "Aguamenti," with a wave of her wand, a magnificent of pure, shining water jetted out of the wand tip, and landed in the goblet with a flawless arc.

Phoebe clapped from across the room, giving a playful wink and then returning to her practices, which weren't going particularly well. Luna saw, out of the corner of her eye, Ginny. The youngest Weasley was wearing a bitter-sweet look, her face smouldering but saddened simultaneously.

With a sad smile, Luna concentrated back on performing the Charm. She felt something bump at her shoulder, and turned to see a slightly-larger-than-life orange butterfly. She knew from the naturalist books her mother had owned that this was Large Skipper, a butterfly belonging to the Hesperiidae family. A small, rolled-up piece of parchment was tied gently to its body, and curious, Luna took the small note from it. She smiled as she recognized Neville's dark scrawled handwriting on the off-white paper.

_HOGSMEADE THIS WEEKEND, WITH ME?  
N_

"That Longbottom boy... he fancies you, aye?" Luna turned to see Ivy looking over her shoulder at the letter. Luna blinked in disbelief, shaking her blonde head slowly.

"No he doesn't." She replied. "We're just friends, really." Ivy raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

"You should try telling _him_ that." She muttered. Luna sighed. She scribbled back her reply -she would _love_ to go to Hogsmeade with him- and attached her respective piece of parchment to the butterfly, who was sunning itself patiently on the edge of her desk. It flew away, out the window and into the gloomy world outside.

Phoebe tossed a piece of paper towards Luna, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Luna frowned again, and unfolded the parchment.

_WAS THAT FROM LOVER-BOY?_

Was all it read. Luna locked eyes with Phoebe and shook her head, her luminescent hair falling slightly in her face. She brushed it back idly as the other girl rolled her eyes.

Luna delicately picked up the crumpled pieces of paper, soundlessly plunking them into into the goblet. With a jab of her rosewood wand, Phoebe's and Neville's notes burst into controlled flames, burning into nothing but a small pile of ash. Luna murmured the Aguamenti Charm, and water once again filled the goblet. Ivy gave a sympathetic cluck of her tongue, and returned to Transfiguring her goblet into a china tea cup into one little white mouse.

As the mouse -formerly tea cup formerly goblet- scampered up onto Luna's shoulder, nibbling at her hair, the blonde girl sighed and flicked her wand at the mouse, changing it from white to a brilliant electric blue. It let out a small squeak, and scurried back onto the desk, sitting patiently in front of Ivy.

The rest of Charms class was very much the same, with the students practising various Charms and chattering away to their friends. Luna sat in silence, pulling out her treasured and attrited copy of 'A Study in Scarlet' by the celebrated Muggle author, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. She flipped through to where she had left off, happily delving back into the realm of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John H. Watson.

She lost herself completely in the book, and when Ivy politely shook her out of the written world, saying that it was time to move to their next lesson, it was a great surprise to her that the remaining half-hour of the class had moved that quickly.

Luna stuffed the book back in her bag, and flashed a smile and an idle wave to Professor Flitwick. The old man's worried face changed completely into a genuine smile as he waved back at the young witch. She turned out of the classroom and into the hall, carefully putting on her Spectrespecs. She trotted on down the stairs, her gaze wandering around to the portraits -to each one she greeted with a bright 'hello' and a smile- to the ceiling to the floor to the walls to the other students.

Then those eyes. They came back to her, the insides of her eyelids filled with the piercing silver tincture. The dry, whispering lips against her temple. Luna absentmindedly touched her fingers lightly to the spot on her head where his slightly roughened mouth had signed her skin with an invisible mark.

She was pulled out of her daydream as none other than Pansy Parkinson slammed into her, sending her books spilling out onto the stairs below her.

"Oops, sorry Loony." Pansy chided, smirking smugly and flipping her dark brown hair over her shoulder so that it whipped the young Ravenclaw across the face. The tendrils left a tenuous sting a few seconds after Pansy had stalked away, a new spring in her step at having abused the younger witch.

Luna considered her pacifist values, taking her naturally peaceful approach. She did nothing but stoop to pick up her books and quills, and continue on her way to Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid had previously admitted that they were going to be studying Bowtruckles again, for lack of funding to bring in more exotic creatures, but an abandoned nest of Fire Crabs had been discovered not too far away, and the sixth years would be using the young Fire Crabs for a training course. The students would be learning how to tame the magical reptiles, hopefully figuring out an effective method to keep their respective Fire Crab from burning them too badly.

They were working in partners with the Gryffindors, Luna working with Colin Creevey. Their foot-long Fire Crab -named 'Eamon' by Luna, nicknamed 'Demon' by Colin- was quite loyal to Luna already, having learned his name. Towards Colin, however, Eamon was quite hostile, bordering on aggressive. Luna had told Colin time and time again that he needed to show the Fire Crab _love_, not a powerful hand, but the usually compassionate young wizard couldn't grasp it.

Luna turned quickly around a corner, walking directly into someone. She caught a flash of blonde hair, and her heart skipped a beat, but returned to normal as she realized who it was. "Oh, sorry Malfoy." She said dreamily, still lost deep within herself. She took off her Spectrespecs and studied his face more closely, adapting a look of concern. His eyes were rimmed with red, as if he had been crying. "Are you alright?" She asked in her mild Irish accent.

Luna was slightly hesitant about talking to him, but kept her record clean of holding grudges. She was alone in considering that Draco Malfoy had a heart, a soul, feelings other than spite and hatred.

He blinked at her like he had never seen her before in his life. She waited patiently as he struggled to compose himself, his cold grey eyes freezing back into their stoic stare and the corner of his lip turning up with malice. "I'm _fine_." He snarled through gritted teeth.

Luna stepped back, looking at him curiously. "You certainly don't look alright." She mused aloud. "Are you hurt?" She tried again. She noticed that his eyes flicked from his left arm back to her steady gaze. He clenched his jaw, his eyes softening slightly.

"I... I can't talk about it." He mumbled. Luna shook her shining hair.

"You can talk about it to me." She replied serenely, watching him closely, solely out of habit.

"You have class." The seventh year Slytherin argued firmly, his voice pushing her away but begging for her to stay simultaneously. Luna only responded with another angelic smile and shake of her head.

"I don't mind listening." She said softly.

Beautiful.

She was beautiful.

He didn't deserve such beauty.

He never would, not after what he had done, what he was going to do. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve her purity, her beauty.

But oh, she was beautiful.

He stared back at her, his heart about to fall out of his chest. Did she just..? He blinked, and opened his mouth in an attempt to respond. No sound came out except for a small strangled noise. He shut his mouth abruptly, thankful that she was listening to one to a portrait of a pretty young woman go off on a heated tangent about how the man that was supposed to be in _her_ painting was off making way too nice with the fairies in the painting one floor up.

Draco Malfoy finally managed to clear his throat, and looked around at the students. His gaze was drawn to the top floor, where a tall man with jet-black hair and robes to match was standing stiffly, surveying the hall. Professor Snape.

"Yes, Draco?" He was surprised that Luna addressed him by his first name, rather than calling him by his last name, which all of Potter's gang did. He briefly considered whether Luna Lovegood was part of Potter's golden clique, or whether she was a different group all on her own.

"Oh. I, euh..." He trailed off, but quickly collected himself, internally kicking himself in the balls. "Can we _not_ stand here?" The gentle tone he used shocked him. Was Draco Malfoy showing... _politeness_? No, the Malfoy's weren't polite. They were civil when the situation was to their advantage, but they were never _nice_. Luna didn't seem fazed at all by the unexpected manner, but smiled her signature dreamy smile and nodded.

"I understand. You wouldn't want to be seen with someone like me." She said matter-of-factly, stating it rather than asking if he didn't want to be seen with her. He frowned, utterly, hopelessly confused. _He_ wouldn't want to be seen with _her_? Was he hearing that right? He had almost killed Albus Dumbledore, he was a Death Eater, he practically ruled the school -or, well, his acquaintances did- and Harry Potter hated him, thus earning him hatred from people he barely knew. Shouldn't _she_ be against being seen with _him_?

"Yeah. Sure." He replied, walking out of the open space and down a particularly quiet corridor. Luna fell into step beside him, much to his great annoyance.

"Draco, if you're worried about being seen with me, I know a lovely little place that's quite out of the way." She offered in the voice he had grown to love dearly.

"Whatever." He replied grumpily, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robes. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes.

She was so untainted and pure. She had a sweet and serene disposition, but also a knack for being embarrassingly honest. But Draco knew that she was one of the most comforting people he would ever meet. She was empathic with other people, whether it was Harry Potter himself, or a lost first year, or even a seventh-year Slytherin Death Eater. He didn't deserve someone as beautiful as her. He didn't deserve her kindness, her patience, her friendly words. He deserved hostility, hatred, insults. He had attempted to kill Albus Dumbledore, he had played a key role in the Death Eaters' first strike upon Hogwarts. He didn't deserve to be loved.

He followed her, keeping an eye on her the entire time. She talked the entire way, about everything from the other students stealing her shoes to deep, philosophical and paradoxical questions that Draco had never would have considered in his wildest dreams.

The odd couple travelled quietly, save for Luna's innocuous chatter. Draco frowned as Luna stopped on the third floor platform. "Why did you stop?" He asked, looking hurriedly around for any teachers. Wasn't it just his luck that Amycus Carrow had just rounded a corner, and was coming down the stairs. Twenty more seconds, and they would be as good as dead, or just plain dead. The Dark Arts professor and Deputy Headmaster was sadistic and loved to torture anyone available -especially those not yet of age- and was unfortunately far more ruthless than his sister, Alecto.

"What's wrong?" Luna asked. Terrified out of his wits, Draco pressed his hand gently over Luna's. He pointed up the stairs, and her eyes widened in the same fear he felt pulsing through his body. Luna broke free of Draco, and turned around, delicately prodding the edge of a white rose on a large painting with the tip of her wand. The rose turned a dark red, and the artwork swung open, revealing a small passageway. Normally, Draco would have just stood there and stared at the unrevealed secret, but now was not the time. He felt a certain warmth course through his veins as Luna took his hand, pulling him into the dark and closing the portrait behind her.

"Lumos." She whispered, and the tip of her wand soon ignited with the familiar ghostly periwinkle light.

"What... how..?" He stuttered quietly. "You... how did you know that was there?" He asked. Luna frowned, as if he had just stated that he was a flaming homosexual who could only be sexually aroused by Muggles, always longed to be put in Hufflepuff, and enjoyed reading young adult fictional vampire romance novels.

"I stumbled upon it, one day." She said simply. "I guess I found it because I wasn't looking for it." Her answer was cryptic. "You see, if you look for something that you've only heard about and have never actually experienced, then you'll probably never find it. But if you don't look for something that you've never thought of, then that makes it that much easier to find." It was his turn to frown. He would never completely understand Luna, but that was part of what he loved about her. She was never predictable, never boring, she kept everyone on their toes. "During lunch one day in my first year, I got lost. Being only eleven and still very small, you see, I was quite inexperienced when it came to the castle." She explained. "So I started talking to the portraits, supposing that maybe they could help me find my way. They're really very interesting, once you get to know them." He nodded tentatively. "I decided to explore, seeing as they had so much to say and there was so much I wanted to see." Her dreamy voice was captivating, enchanting.

"So how did you find _this_?" He asked. Luna broke into a wider smile, which was positively exquisite in the dim light. Oh, how he wanted to touch those lips of hers with his own. To feel her smooth skin under his fingertips, to run his fingers through her shining blonde hair. He wanted her.

"Well, I was talking to the portrait beside this one -the one of the little girl with the white cat- and she kept saying something about painting the roses red. 'Luna,' she said, 'why don't you just paint the roses red?' she said." Moments like this were how she earned her nickname of 'Loony Lovegood'. "Do you know what that's from?" He shook his head. "Funny; I thought it was obvious, really. It's from a book by a Muggle author: Lewis Carroll. He's an enchanting writer, I think you'd like him, if you liked reading." Again, Draco frowned. He frowned. Instead of smiling and kissing her, it was the only thing he _could _do that wouldn't make her suspect him.

"I'm not much for books." It was only a half lie. He didn't go out looking for reading material, but when he was presented with a book or forced to read one, he found himself quite able to enjoy it. Luna only flashed a smile, and sat down on the flagstone ground. Draco followed suit, sitting across from her so that he could better study her entrancing face.

With a flick of her wand, a small glass jar appeared out of thin air. Draco didn't bat an eyelash, this was simpler magic, of course. The only curiosity he had was as to why she had conjured a jar. Then the tip of her wand flickered with a violet flame, and Luna lowered her wand tip into the jar. The unusually coloured flame floated in mid air, burning brightly and illuminating the dark passage.

"As I was saying," He met Luna's eyes, thankful he was sitting down or he might have gone weak in the knees. Her steady stare was like nothing he had ever encountered, ensnaring him, seducing him, like twin crystalline magnets. "There's quote from it, a young girl asking 'why don't you just paint the roses red?'. You can guess what I did next, can't you?" She asked eagerly. Draco swallowed hard and looked back at her curiously.

"You... painted the roses... red?" He offered. She laughed and clapped her pale hands with glee.

"Yes!" Her grin widened, and before he could stop himself, he was smiling too. It felt unusual to smile, he was so accustomed to smirking that a genuine smile was new territory. A short sadness poked at him as he realized that he couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. There was so much fear in his life, so much hatred, that he wondered if he had simply _forgotten_ to smile.

Luna stopped laughing slowly, cocking her head to the side and watching him. "You have a lovely smile." He felt his pale cheeks blush an embarrassing shade of pink as the blood rushed to them and quickly bowed his head, casting his face into shadow.

He felt a familiar twinge of confusion displace itself rudely through his gut. He didn't blush, he _never_ blushed. Blushing was for sissies, and fourth year Hufflepuff girls. Seventh year Slytherin Death Eaters? They weren't supposed to blush. Definitely not.

But when he focused on Luna again, the smile was still wider than ever on his face. "You really do." One of her slender hands reached out and touched his shoulder, almost forcing him to look up at her.

He let out a sigh. She didn't understand. She didn't understand that, as much as he wanted to smile, he had no reason to. He was going to die, they were all going to die. The Dark Lord was rising to power, he was going to command both the wizarding and the Muggle world, and there was nothing anybody could do to stop it. Harry Potter was gone, disappeared, and he was the only one that people believed in enough to stop Voldemort. Draco wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they were. His smile dropped, and he closed his eyes tightly. He leaned his head back against the wall, sighing.

"Draco, are you alright?" His grey eyes met her silvery-blue ones, and he felt like crying. He shook his head, raising a hand to brush his blonde hair out of his face.

"You don't understand." He murmured. Luna looked confused at his words, causing her to move closer to him. She knelt in front of him, the tops of her knees brushing his toes under his shoes. "It's just..." He sighed again, and her hand dropped, resting on his leg. "Why are you being nice to me?" He asked, meeting her eyes. She gently lifted one of his hands off of his knee, holding it in both of hers. She tilted her head down, looking up at him from under her long blonde eyelashes.

She was the picture of innocence, she always was. She was pure, untainted, clean. Serene, sincere, genuine. With her lustrous white-blonde wavy hair, her sky-like eyes that sparkled like they were stars in themselves. Her vestal figure so lithe, that one could be almost sure that the wind was going to pick her up and toss her around like a dry autumn leaf.

A small sigh from her resurrected him from his slight obsessiveness. "Well, I..." She pressed her front teeth down on her bottom lip, biting it slightly in her thought, and looked up on a diagonal, as if the cobwebs were going to give her an answer. Knowing Luna, the spiders were probably already chatting away to her. Still obviously deep within herself, she whispered her reply in a voice so low that he barely heard her.

"Pardon?" Oh Merlin, now he had to be all _polite_. Since when was he polite? Since when was he polite to _Luna_? Since now.

"You looked like you needed it." She replied softly. She looked directly at him -no, _through_ him- as she spoke, piece by piece tearing down his defences, the walls he had built up around him. He was hopelessly scrambling to pick up after himself, to gather all the shards and try to stick them back together before Luna entered his realm of insecurities. She could see right through him, she could see right through everybody. Her eyes were filled to the brim with wisdom, happenings that a girl her age should not have seen. He realized something then; she _wasn't_ crazy at all.

He took his hand from hers, and opened his mouth to speak. "Lovegood, I-"

"Actually, you reminded me of someone." Luna mused aloud. Draco blinked, touching a hand to his head to lightly brush aside his hair.

"Who?"

"Harry." Was her simple reply. He frowned. Of all the people he could resemble, he reminded Luna of _Harry Potter_? "Yes, Harry." Draco realized that he had voiced Potter's name in his utter confusion. "Whenever he's upset, you can tell, you see." She took his hand again, and just like before, he looked down. With her slender fingers, she brushed the back of his hand, tracing designs on his skin. He trained his molten silver gaze on the stone floor, forcing himself to concentrate on the lines, the pattern, the asymmetry and the symmetry. But he couldn't get rid of the feel of her touch, the sound of her voice as she continued to talk to him. "I was there when his godfather died." Draco swallowed hard. As much as he loathed Potter, he had pitied the other boy when Draco had heard about his aunt killing Harry Potter's only decent family. "He was distraught, you see." She sighed. "Well... everybody gets upset sometimes, you see Draco?" He closed his eyes, not bothering with the floor and instead zeroing in on her touch and her voice. "But you and Harry... you're different from everyone else, and you're the same as each other.

"When Harry's upset, he bottles in his emotions -not very well, though, it's obvious when he's unhappy. Since he's not very good, he often lashes out at the rest of us, even yelling at his best friends. It's hard for some people to love him when he gets like this, but, I can handle it." He could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm used to people throwing insults at me." He looked back up at her, she was wearing a sad smile now. "I've been called more names than a Diamondtooth Ravager can count on its toes!" She attempted a cheery smile, but the combination with her faraway eyes made her look even sadder. Draco concealed his smile. A _Diamondtooth Ravager_? It was Luna to the letter.

He sighed. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Oh, so innocent.

"Be so... so bloody _happy_ all the time!" Draco was desperate for an answer. If there was anything that _he_ could do to pull himself through this with a brave face, then Luna would surely know about it. She looked at him like he had just told her that Crumple-Horned Snorkacks weren't real.

"Draco," Her tone was as serious as it could get, still dreamy and airy. "I'm _not_ happy all the time." She said plainly, without drama or effect. It was a truth, an honest truth. Draco's jaw dropped a mile in his mind, but in reality he only opened it slightly. Luna wasn't always cheerful?

"You..?" He tried to come up with a sentence, but stumbled and only vocalized the first word. In his head, he was able to structure a question easily, but when it came to speaking; he couldn't.

"Me." Luna offered another sad smile. Draco tensed slightly. He had to concentrate extremely hard not to envelope Luna in his arms, hug her and caress her.

He wanted to make everything okay for her, he didn't want her to be insecure. Luna couldn't be insecure, she was bloody _Luna Lovegood_. She faced the world with a strong face and a dreamy smile, she couldn't... no! She was confident, she was... she was secure, wasn't she? _Wasn't she?_

"Why?" He asked quietly. She sighed.

"Because no one can be happy all the time."

**Preview:**

"**Or, was it really, as everybody said, too late?"**


	4. maybe

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"Maybe you want her, maybe you need her."_

* * *

"No one can be happy all the time." The words were tranquil and sincere, as was everything that came out of Luna's mouth. "We all have stresses, insecurities, things that make us sad." Her blue-grey eyes burned holes into his. "Things that make us angry, things that we fear. See, Draco?" He nodded slowly. "'Life is a train of moods like a string of beads; and as we pass through them we prove to be many coloured lenses, which paint the world their own hue, and each shows us only what lies in its own focus.'" She recited, patting the back of his hand before curling back up against the wall. Oh, the things her voice, her slight Irish lilt, did to him.

"Who said that?" Draco asked curiously.

"Ralph Waldo Emerson." She replied. "There's always going to be that shadow in the mirror, Draco. We just have to remember that, sometimes, it will go away. It'll be gone forever. Maybe, something else will come in its place, but for now, there's nothing but light. Light and clarity."

"Ralph Waldo Emerson?" He inquired, gently teasing her. The touching speech was impeccably Luna, but she could just have easily read it in some crazy book at one point. Her face brightened as she recognized his lame attempt at a joke, even letting a small chuckle escape from betwixt her lips.

"No, Luna Lovegood." She replied, the same teasing tone winding through her words like silken embroidery thread.

Merlin didn't even know how much he loved her. It was insane, the feelings that he felt for her.

"Touché." He murmured.

"You know what?" She asked. Draco flicked his gaze over her body, before resting on her eyes.

"What?" The lone word was soft, gentle, curious. Brimming with hope, with wishes on shooting stars. With dreams, with feelings. So much in one, lonely word.

"Y'know, you're alright." Her lips curled into a sweet, lopsided smile. He yearned to kiss those lips, no matter what the cost. Using all the strength in him, he refrained, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a hesitant grin. Luna shook her shining hair slightly, not breaking eye contact, so that the pale blonde locks fell in her face.

As if under the influence of the Imperius curse, Draco found it in himself to mirror her smile. "You know what, Lovegood?" He asked quietly.

"I know many things, Draco. It comes with being a Ravenclaw." Her reply deepened his grin. The things that came out of Luna's mouth were so impossibly strange, so incredibly genuine and unusual, that Draco couldn't help but internally laugh. Not laugh _at_ Luna, of course, but the feeling she inspired in him made him want to laugh out of sheer joy.

"You're alright too." His words were soft, almost -dare he say it- kind. But he couldn't help it. Luna made him want to see the beauty in the oddest things, he even found himself appreciating the colours of the sunset even more, the constellation patterns in the stars.

After all, love can do the most peculiar things.

Luna smiled, appreciating his kind words. It was unexpected, yes, but it was only for that reason that she was surprised. Draco Malfoy was one of the last people that she had thought would touch her voluntarily, next to Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters. Honestly, she didn't mind human contact. Most people avoided touching her, she had recently supposed that they thought that her unique view on life was some sort of contagious disease. The very thought made her smile widen; she didn't have dragon pox, or scrofungulus, or Vanishing sickness. She was just plain old Luna.

She had to admit, she wasn't completely sure why she was being so pleasant towards Draco, even though she was naturally a pleasant person. She had good reason to avoid him, after all, he had helped on more than one occasion to make her school life hell, he was a Death Eater, and he had tried to kill Albus Dumbledore. Most people thought that he _would_ have done the unthinkable deed if Snape hadn't stepped in. However, Luna doubted him. It wasn't that she considered him weak or incapable; in fact, it was the exact opposite. Draco Malfoy was strong, stronger than even he knew. It wasn't that he _couldn't_ kill Dumbledore, it's that he _wouldn't._ Even though the lives of him and his family were looming over his head, he still made a choice. Draco was a surprisingly interesting and kind person, but it seemed that he himself didn't realize that yet. He had feelings. He was compassionate, more sensitive than people realized. If he had realized this in his earlier years, Luna couldn't help but wonder if they would have been close friends. But really, couldn't they be friends, even now? Even after all the years of being enemies, even after all the anger, the despair, the blood, sweat, tears? Or, was it really, as everybody said, too late?

_No_. Luna thought as they sat in the reposing silence. _It's not too late._ She melted back into her comforting smile as she launched herself into her thoughts once more. It _wasn't_ too late to give Draco a chance. He deserved a second chance; _everyone_ deserved a second chance. It wasn't too late. It would _never_ be too late. If somebody -even a Death Eater- wanted a second chance, then Luna was going to give it to them.

But, if everyone deserved a second chance, then did Ginny Weasley? She had called Luna a freak, she had hurt her best friend in a way that she had never been hurt. Did she deserve this generous act of charity? Did Luna _want_ Ginny back in her life? Did she want to risk being hurt again? Now that she knew what Ginny really thought of her, did she want to be Ginny's friend again, knowing what the redheaded girl thought of her?

Yes; Luna wanted Ginny back. No; she didn't want Ginny back. She didn't want to be hurt again. But, Ginny wouldn't hurt her again. She didn't want to risk it. But, she wanted to risk it. She didn't... she did... she didn't want it at all... she wanted it more than anything in the world. She didn't need Ginny back in her life... she needed her more than she had ever needed anything before.

This was deeper thinking than Luna had done in a long time, and the stress of it brought tears to her eyes. She missed Ginny, that much was true. But, she had other friends. Neville, Phoebe, Ivy, Sophia... and now Draco. She _wasn't_ alone. She didn't need Ginny, did she? Yes, she did... no, she didn't.

"Lovegood, are you alright?" His quiet voice broke through her wall of thoughts. She focused in on his grey eyes, his silver eyes that looked right into her, without even trying. She could see his gaze waver as he searched her face for a sign. Then slowly, very slowly, she shook her head.

"No," She breathed, barely able to hear herself. She bit her lower lip as a single, clichéd tear rebelled against her will and sedately traveled down her pale cheek. "I'm not."

**Preview:**

"**Sometimes, she thought that Draco was so unused to imagining things, that he just didn't know how to learn anything new. Maybe it was because nobody let him learn anything. His mind was penetrated and filled to the brim with spells and commands, but he merely memorized them, never _learned_ them."**


	5. keep on running

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"We gotta keep on running 'til we see the sun."_

* * *

A loud noise had them both startled out of their wits. It was a bang, a hollow noise coming from the portrait end of the tunnel. Then another identical noise. Then another. Luna sprang to her feet, but Draco seemed to have been rendered immobile.

"Draco," Luna whispered, holding out a hand. She quickly extinguished the magical flame, the jar disappearing. He looked like he was in a completely other universe, his passion-filled grey eyes slightly glazed over. "Draco!" She dared to raise her voice to a loud whisper, and curved her palm over one of his shoulders. This action had him jump slightly as he returned back to cold hard reality. "Somebody's here." She breathed. He quickly stood up and took her hand as they set off down the passageway. Luna was ahead of him, she knew exactly where they were going.

The darkness enveloped them, Luna not even bothering to shine some light in the passageway with her rosewood wand. She had traced this path so often, over half of those times in the dark, that she didn't need the light to see. She could feel the tension in the Slytherin boy's hand as he grasped her own. His grip was tight, as if he was afraid to let go for fear of losing her.

"Lovegood, where are we going?!" Draco hissed, his normally silvery voice sounding constricted. He sounded like a frightened rabbit, like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, uncertain and afraid of what was to come.

"This way," She replied calmly, turning the corner sharply.

"That's not a very good answer." Draco muttered through gritted teeth as the fairy-like Ravenclaw pulled him behind her. Luna only smiled. "How do you know where to go, anyway?" He asked, sounding suddenly suspicious, like he was almost annoyed that she had this secret passage all to herself, that it hadn't been discovered before.

"Because I've been here before." Sometimes, she thought that Draco was so unused to imagining things, that he just didn't know how to learn anything new. Maybe it was because nobody let him learn anything. His mind was penetrated and filled to the brim with spells and commands, but he merely memorized them, never _learned_ them.

"Great." She heard him whisper sarcastically under his breath. She knew that his utterance hadn't been vocalized for her ears to notice, but her keen hearing picked up the single word easily.

She stopped, rather abruptly, turning around to face her companion. She let out a small "Oof!" as Draco's athletic body bumped into hers, almost sending the both of them flying forward. As she tottered off balance, Draco grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. As he did so, his lips brushed against her forehead. She felt his grip on her shoulders tighten, felt his toned body tense up before he let go of her altogether, taking a small step back.

"Sorry," He mumbled, the familiar haughty Slytherin tone creeping back into his voice. Apologizing, but blaming at the same time. As if he was about to say 'I'm sorry for _your_ mistake that was definitely not mine'. Luna ignored the meaning behind the word, and instead took his hand once again. "Why did we stop, Lovegood?" Draco's voice trembled slightly, and she could barely see his handsome blonde head turn back to look at the way they had come.

Before she could answer, they both snapped to look at each other as something unimaginable happened. Heavy, repeated sounds bounced off the walls, echoing in the dark passageway. The students froze, their gazes meeting in the blackness. Their eyes had adjusted enough to see the look of pure fear on the other's face. Footsteps. The sound reverberated through the stone tunnel, growing louder and louder as the owner drew nearer. Luna bit her bottom lip and tightened her grip on Draco's hand, while the older boy did the same. He stepped protectively in front of Luna, as if he could protect her,. Draco dropped his free hand into his pocket, drawing out his wand.

"Run." He whispered. With the quiet command, Luna darted forward, Draco following close behind. They broke into their respective sprints, the older of the two -naturally- slightly ahead. Their hands were still joined firmly, both of them desperate to not lose the other. A jet of red light streaming past them had them looking wildly behind them. A silhouetted form was thundering towards them, but was at least twenty metres away. The figure's wand was out, sending bright jets of light towards them in shades of red, purple, and blue.

"Custodinos!" Luna cried, making enough sense of her panic to shout a spell. The silvery-violet light streamed from her wand tip, shielding them as they ran away in the form of a wandlight spider web that weaved a net across the hall, thwarting their attacker. She couldn't help but feel a certain cognisance of pride at the success of her spell. The safety spell was one she had read about and had seen Sophia practice, but she had never performed it herself.

An indiscriminate bellow of frustration reflected along the walls as the nameless figure was halted by the effects of Luna's enchantment. And although she tried to contain herself, she started laughing. It started first as a small giggle, but grew to a full, ariose expression of gaiety.

Before she knew just exactly what was so funny, she was pinned against the wall with a hand clapped over her mouth, muffling her. Draco's body was pressed against hers, a look of urgency in his steely eyes. "Quiet." He breathed, his warm breath wafting over her skin. Luna struggled to hold a silence, but at last, she was successful. After a few moments, she relaxed in Draco's arms, looking up at him calmly. The harsh expression faded from his face into a softer one, and he sighed. "Sorry, Lovegood." He apologized quietly, removing his hand from her lips. "I..." He broke away suddenly, almost roughly, backing away from her.

This was an interesting side of Draco, one she had never seen before. He was always so collected, so artificial, so... regal. But now, it seemed like he wouldn't know what to do with his own wand if he was given step-by-step instructions on how to _hold_ it. The blonde wizard was positively uncoordinated to the point where it became almost amusing. He was awkward, a bit of a fool, and unbeknownst to him; quite hilarious. Luna couldn't help but admit to herself that she liked this Draco better. He cared, and it was obvious to her keen eye, even though he was trying as hard as he could to keep his mask on. He was so used to wearing this heavy black shroud over his head that masked who he really was, that Luna was almost positive that _he_ didn't even know who he was anymore.

"Sorry," He whispered again, his handsome head in his lithe hands. He was gripping his hair tightly, as if something was raging on in his brain and he was trying to make it stop. Luna mused silently that he was a curious boy, in the sense that he often did things that puzzled the witness; who, in this case, happened to be her.

Calmly, she reached out a hand and cupped his shoulder in her palm. "There's no need to apologize, Draco." She replied sweetly. "You didn't do anything wrong." He looked up at her and sighed heavily.

If there had been any other sort of noise in the passageway -their assailant seemed to have given up on them, or gone to alert the Headmaster- she wouldn't have been able to hear what he said next. "You don't know the half of it, Lovegood." The statement was soft, barely audible even in the pregnant silence, but Luna's acute sense of hearing was able to pick up the words that came huskily out of his perfectly carved lips. He straightened his shoulders, shrugging off her hand and turning to face her. "Lovegood, I..." His eyes were soft, molten pools of silver and pewter. His tone was just as smooth and fluid as his eyes, and he reached up his right hand to rest it where her neck and shoulder joined. "I'm sorry. For... everything."

"I have to admit, Draco, that I wasn't expecting that." Luna flashed a dazzling smile up at him. Truth be told, she really _hadn't_ been expecting that. She hadn't expected him to apologize, to voluntarily make contact with her Muggle-loving skin. He looked slightly embarrassed in the dim light that their wands cast, and she knew why: He had just done something that Malfoys, Death Eaters, Slytherins, _never _did. He said that he was sorry.

Before she could reply, the thundering of footsteps had them both in a defensive position again, wands raised at shoulder-height. "STUPEFY!" A red jet of light flew through the small gap in between their heated bodies. The owner of the voice was familiar, and Luna's slate-coloured eyes immediately widened immensely, if that was even possible. She met Draco's panicked face with a serene look, seeing the recognition on his pale face. He knew who the voice was as well, and bloody hell, this was _not_ good.

"He can't see me!" He hissed. Luna nodded, contemplating what to do. "I can see you're thinking of something, Lovegood, spit it out!"

"PROTEGO!" Luna's voice rang clear in the passageway. As the white light filled the tunnel, she looked around wildly, and faced the wall. Muttering one of her favourite charms, she finally drew a vertical, shimmering pearly line from the floor up to the wall. She stretched up on her tiptoes, continuing the line horizontally for a stretch of three feet, then traced down to the floor. The enclosed shape disappeared altogether, leading down another passageway. "Get in." She whispered, pointing to the new lead.

A confused and almost concerned expression on his handsome face, he stepped in, and she waved her wand over the passageway; producing a brick-like, magical fabric that shimmered over the empty gap before finally becoming opaque. It wasn't constructed of bricks, like the rest of the wall, it was merely an illusion.

"Luna!" Neville Longbottom had slowed down to a jog by this point, slipping his wand back into his robes. "Are you alright?" He asked in his strong North Western English accent, placing his strong hands on her small shoulders. She nodded plainly. "Who else was here?" His tone was suddenly serious, and his patient azure gaze flicked around the passageway, looking past Luna into the depths of darkness behind her.

"Nobody." She lied easily. The lie tasted funny on her tongue, she wasn't used to lying. But, she understood Draco's panic at almost being discovered by Neville. She wasn't going to blow his cover, that wouldn't be the friendly or even remotely polite thing to do. Still, it felt _wrong_ lying to Neville.

"Luna..." Neville warned. She could tell that he didn't buy her fib at all, and he was -if this was even possible- more suspicious than he had ever been before. She sighed.

"Neville, it's just me here. It's just me. There's nobody here." Luna offered a brilliant smile, to which Neville replied with one of his signature lopsided, nervous grins. "And, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind keeping it that way..." She began uncertainly. "I'd... I'd like to be alone." She looked at him defiantly, challenging him to deny her her wish.

"Right, er..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, I was just making sure that you were alright." To this, she couldn't help but smile again. "I just came to tell you, that, well..." He exhaled loudly. "I've got detention. So, I don't know if I can make it to Hogsmeade this weekend." Luna sighed.

"That's fine, Neville. What did you do to make Professor Carrow so upset?" She asked curiously, unable to control her inquiring mind. Neville had Defense Against the Dark Arts -reformed to just plain old 'Dark Arts' since the Death Eaters had taken over Hogwarts- first class, and he usually ended up with some punishment. The punishment could be anything from a detention to a first-hand account of the Cruciatus Curse. Neville let out a dry laugh and shook his brunette head.

"I stopped dumb ol' Malfoy from using a first year as a curse guinea pig." He said darkly. "But then," here, his mouth stretched into an unfamiliar smirk "He suddenly excused himself from the class. The tosser looked a bit green, come to think of it." Neville mused. Luna frowned slightly, her pale eyebrows knitting together. Draco had used a curse on a first year? He... no. He left, and he looked sick. It must have been too much for him, he couldn't do it. "Unfortunately, dear ol' Amycus didn't like my reaction so much." He grimaced again. "I don't really know exactly what I'll be doing, but, since it's with the Carrows..." He shrugged. "Ginny's got detention too, the day before me, with Snape or something." He said carefully, as if he had expected to get some sort of rise out of Luna.

"Oh," Her gentle Irish accent caressed the single word kindly, filling it with meaning that it wouldn't have otherwise possessed.

"Yeah. She, er, she mouthed off to Snape. Told him that Harry was going to come back, and he'd be sorry. Some shit like that, really." Neville shoved his hands in his pockets. "Not that, I don't believe it, but it's just... I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon, y'know?" Luna nodded, even though she really had no idea what he was talking about. 'Some shit like that'? No, Harry _was_ going to come back. He _had_ to come back. Hogwarts was counting on him. The entirety of the British wizarding _world_ was counting on him.

"Oh," Luna's cherubic mouth formed the small circular shape once again, and she nodded slowly. Her gaze broke completely away from Neville's, resting on the ceiling above them. "The air's particularly full of Wrackspurts again." She speculated quietly. Her dark-haired companion followed her eyeline to the ceiling.

"Oh." He let out a long, discomforted breath.

"Please Neville, go to class." Luna murmured. "I'll be fine." She reassured him as he looked at her with his best concerned expression. "Nobody knows where I am, none of the Death Eaters can find me." She proposed a cheerful smile, which Neville attempted to mimic. He knew better than anyone that she was capable of taking care of herself, that she could take any enemy in a fight, even though she looked frailer than a one week old Niffler.

"Sure." He then mumbled something about seeing her around before she wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight hug. After a few, silent moments, he reciprocated the action, his newly-muscled arms enveloping her lithe frame snugly. "See ya, Luna." He gave an awkward, Neville-ish smile, and waved one hand clumsily before setting back off in the direction he had come.

Luna smiled to herself; Neville was one of the most curious boys she had ever met. He would be easy to read, to analyze, but instead he was so gawky and utterly graceless that he was difficult. Then, he would say something that would make you say 'Harry Potter who? Neville bloody Longbottom is _my_ hero'. He could be so brave, so warrior-like, but he was such an uncoordinated fellow that he was an absolute misfit. He had hardships in his life, but he never mentioned them. He put other people's problems first, always. He was like a favourite sweater; worn out and tired, but comforting, snug, warm. Being Neville's friend was like being friends with a star. He was a pure ball of light, radiating warmth and comfort unintentionally, but also fueled with a burning passion, an inner fire deep in his exaggerated heart. There was no doubt about it; Neville Longbottom was somebody you would always want on your team.

**Preview:**

"**"I know that this is bigger. This is bigger than Harry, this is bigger than Voldemort himself! This is bigger than _you_, Draco Malfoy!""**


	6. wait

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"Wait, they don't love you like I love you."_

* * *

Fucking Neville Longbottom.

Fucking. Neville. Longbottom.

Draco felt his insides turn to a burning ice, a freezing fire as Longbottom left, and all he could do was stand on the other side of the stupid wall and glare deep into the darkness. He hated Longbottom. He hated Longbottom because he wanted Luna. And she didn't even see it. She couldn't see that the dark-haired boy was absolutely, completely mad for her. She was too naive, was that it? No, Luna wasn't naive in the slightest. She was pure, yes, but she was far too wise to be naive. Luna Lovegood was many things, but naive was not one of them.

He also hated Longbottom, because he knew that Longbottom was braver than he would ever be. He, Draco Malfoy, would never have had the gall, as an eleven year old, to stand up to the famous Harry Potter the way Neville Longbottom did, back in their first year. He, Draco Malfoy, would never be able to fight countless Death Eaters with a bunch of other students, much less by himself, the way that Neville Longbottom had. He, Draco Malfoy, would never be able to stand up to the Carrows and other Death Eaters the way that Neville Longbottom had. And that scared the shit out of him.

With a small sigh, Luna waved her wand in the direction of the wall illusion that Draco was concealed behind. It quickly disappeared into thin air, and the blonde boy walked out, his expression stonier than before. Luna cocked her shining head to the side, as if she was utterly confused as to why he looked like he was about to murder something. She swished her wand around in a small circle, creating a luminous orb that hung above their heads, emitting a ghostly light not unlike that of a fire.

"Draco..?" She asked his name in her soft, airy voice; her soft, airy voice that controlled him in ways he had not thought possible. The deadly look on his face was quickly replaced with a softer one, his ash-coloured eyes were portrayed almost apologetically. She was about to say something, to ask him -once more- if he was alright, but he cut her off with a small vocalization of

"Nothing." He shook his head, consequently ending the subject.

"Are you..?" He saw her try to search his face for some sort of clue, a hint as to what had him suddenly upset. He didn't want to show it, but he knew that it was displayed clearly with every essence of his being. The way his jaw was set, the way he clenched his fist around his wand, his grounded stance.

"Drop it. Please." He whispered, his free hand tightening and un-tightening in its fist. Why wouldn't she just let him be? It was none of her bloody business, now, was it? No! It wasn't! She couldn't even begin to comprehend what sorts of horrible things he had done -it didn't matter that he was forced to do them- and said and oh, what he had done. Even today, in Dark Arts class, he had been supposed to perform the Cruciatus Curse on a whimpering first year. Thank Merlin that Longbottom had stepped in, or he would have actually had to do the unforgivable Unforgivable.

For a few sacred moments, Luna heeded his lame command and refrained from speaking. Draco studied her as she looked casually up at the stone ceiling, her vivid silver-blue eyes reflecting in the light of the orb. The shadows the warm light created on her beautifully poetic face accented the fine bone structure of her head, all the way down to her lovely collarbone. What he wouldn't give to wrap her in his arms, to hold her and press his lips against that collarbone. It was crazy, really. Before his fifth year, he never would have thought that he would have intense feelings such as these for somebody as unique as Luna Lovegood. If anybody had suggested it before then, he would have hexed them all the way back to the 1970's without a second thought. If they had suggested it up from then until this year, he probably would have pushed them off the Astronomy tower.

"I wonder where all the Nargles are." Her angelic, dreamy accented voice broke his train of thought. He felt a familiar fire snake through him; anger. There was a bloody war being birthed, and she was in some secret passageway harping on about bloody _Nargles_? "Draco, you're obviously not alright." Luna said gently in that bloody seductive accent of hers. It was funny, really: when he thought of Irish accents, Draco thought of loud and obnoxious; like that wanker, Seamus Finnegan. Her accent was muted, giving her a mysterious and alluring air. "So why don't you just tell me what's wrong?" She sounded almost in distress, begging to know what was the matter.

He didn't want to tell her.

He didn't want to tell her that he was afraid. He didn't want her to know that what he wanted, more than anything, was to cry. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't, not in front of her. He couldn't cry in front of her. Because she had a large capacity of empathy, larger than all the members of Hufflepuff put together. And he knew, oh, he knew, that if he cried, she was going to cry along with him. Because _that_ was the kind of person that Luna Lovegood was. That being said, she would most definitely cry if she saw the pure pain pulsing through him steadily, pumped out by his own heart. She would cry; and he could not stand to see her cry.

He did _not_ want to make Luna Lovegood cry.

"Please, Draco." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but that pleading tone in her voice had him melting in a puddle on the floor. It also made him even more angry. He hated how scattered she made him be, slicing through his defenses merely by looking at him with those eyes that had him falling to bite-sized pieces ever fucking time he saw them. The enchanting blue orbs that cast laser beams straight into his soul, picking him apart like a child with a fucking spring roll. He couldn't even begin to keep secrets from her, there was no point in trying.

Draco had learned early in his life that one fail-proof way to keep somebody from knowing him, was to shut them out. With people like Luna Lovegood -of which there were scarce- the only way to shut somebody out was to repel them, to make them hate him. People hated when he yelled at them and made them feel like shit, and that was the only way to isolate himself.

Because he had had bad luck with the people he loved, the people he got close to. They got hurt, and it was all his fault.

No, he couldn't hurt Luna Lovegood.

He couldn't.

But, he had to hurt her if he wanted to keep her safe.

"You want to know what's wrong?! Do you?!" The words were thundering out of him before he could stop them. And, just like a waterfall breaking a dam; once it started, he could not stop it. "Do you want to, I don't know, _analyze_ me? Do you want to pick apart my fucking brain and lay it out on the floor?! Or do you just want me to recite the gory bloody details for you, from fucking memory?! WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY, LOVEGOOD?! WOULD IT?!" He was now exceeding his quota of all negative feelings, and the words were flowing out like ink from Hermione Granger's quill when she wrote one of her mile-long Potions essays.

"Draco..." Serene, quiet, gentle. Pure, innocent, sweet. It only fueled the fire deep within him more.

"NO!" He yelled. "You think that you can just be bloody happy and Butterbeer and rainbows all the fucking time! BUT YOU _CAN'T_, LOVEGOOD, YOU _CAN'T_!" Luna recoiled, practically shrinking against the thick walls. And then he was full-fledged yelling at her, practically beating himself on top of her. "I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'VE NOTICED, BUT THERE'S, A, BLOODY, FUCKING, WAR GOING ON! AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU'RE IN SOME FUCKING ISOLATED TUNNEL CHATTERING ON AND ON ABOUT FUCKING NARGLES -WHICH, BY THE WAY, DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST! YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, FUCK IT!" She didn't know about anything, she didn't know about _anything_ that was going on in this war. Why did she keep trying to understand what was happening? She didn't know. She would _never_ know. "I'VE KILLED PEOPLE, LOVEGOOD! I'VE SEEN PEOPLE I LOVE, SLAUGHTERED IN FRONT OF MY OWN TWO EYES! And do you know, what I did?!" He made a move towards her, the monster within him rearing its ugly head and gnashing its teeth towards her, feeding off the fear that egressed from Luna's slight form. "NOTHING! I STOOD THERE, AND I WATCHED THEM DIE, AND I DID NOFUCKINGTHING!" Tears clouded his normally keen vision as he spoke. "I'm a _BAD PERSON_, Lovegood! WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING TO LISTEN TO WHAT I'M SAYING?! I'M A BAD PERSON!"

"No!" Luna stood up defiantly. She grabbed Draco's wild hands with her own. "You're not perfect, Draco Malfoy, but you are not, a bad, man." She said clearly, looking as if she was about to cry. "It's not _you_, Draco! It's _them_! It's never been about you; you've never had anything to do with this." Draco's monster paid no attention to her kind words, lashing out in fury. His heart spoke to him, saying that what she said was right. But then his monster tore at his heart with its razor-sharp claws, slashing it clean through and letting his blood spill out all over those kind thoughts.

"DON'T ACT LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" He cried. "YOU DON'T KNOW _ANYTHING_!"

"I know that this is bigger. This is bigger than Harry, this is bigger than Voldemort himself! This is bigger than _you_, Draco Malfoy!" Luna ploughed on, forcing him to listen. "This all started before that. Yes, Voldemort is the leader now, but who was it before him?!" Her eyes were fucking pleading with him, those eyes that he would kill for. "Genocide, is not an original idea, Draco Malfoy; and I'll be damned if you take _any_ of the blame." Her tone had almost completely lost its normal dreamy air, instead gaining a new ferocity that Draco hadn't experienced before.

"SHUT UP! STOP, FUCKING, SAYING THAT!" He shook his hands free of hers. "SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, LUNA!" He raised one hand as if to strike her and she screamed, falling backwards onto the floor, curling up against the wall. Satisfied with the damage it had done, the monster retreated back into Draco's gut, a crooked, smug grin stretching its foul mouth from ear to ear. It had cause enough pain for now.

That was when his conscience hit him.

He had done the thing he had least wanted to do.

He had made Luna Lovegood cry.

"Fucking Merlin," He swore under his breath as tears ran down her face, the diamond-like drops rolling down her cheeks and onto her robes. "Oh my... I'm sorry, I..." He trailed off, sinking down to the floor right in front of her and putting his head in his hands. Dear Merlin, what the bloody _hell _had he done? Had he really just been about to hit Luna clean across the face?

"Luna." She whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. He almost burst out crying then and there. The trauma had been too much for her, she had officially gone off the wall. And it was all his fault. But then, she smiled. At first it was like a budding flower; hesitant, almost self-conscious, but then it grew into something slightly bigger. "You... you called me Luna." Her eyes shone with tears, and that was when he really lost it.

Draco knew that he couldn't hurt her even if he tried. She was too beautiful. It was like murdering a young fawn, one that wouldn't protest, would just look sadly up at you with its big, dream-filled eyes. You would see its future reflected in that starry gaze, seeing everything that it could amount to, all it had to live for. To ruin it; would be impossible. He had absolutely no idea how the other Death Eaters could do it. They saw children, families, those horrible, crying eyes, and still they killed them. They killed them all, because of blood. Pure blood, half blood, Mudblood.

He had been taught that purebloods were better than Mudbloods or Muggleborns, that they were somehow superior. It had made sense when he was young and really didn't know any better but to listen to his parents. It all made perfectly good sense up until the summer before his fourth year, when the Death Eaters had completely ruined the celebrations after the Quidditch World Cup. His father had been one of the masked terrors, chanting and performing the nastiest of curses on people... innocent people. After that, everything changed. Draco suddenly realized what kind of family he was growing up in. He had been born into a family that had sheltered him from the horrors of wizarding England, even though they were so tightly knotted up in it that it was nothing short of insane. Is this really the life he wanted? Is this the only choice he had?

No.

"Fuck me," He breathed hoarsely. Dear Merlin, how could he have done this? He ruined everything. Draco felt regretful tears flow from his smoke-coloured eyes, staining his pale cheeks. "I'm sorry." He reached out a hand at last, and she flinched again, looking away from him, anywhere but at him. Draco held his hand in the air, suspended at her shoulder level. When she didn't respond, he dropped his hand so that it rested on her knee. Her normally modest skirt had ridden up just ever so slightly, so his hand was in contact with her bare skin.

Being just exactly the kind of person he was; meaning, a seventeen year old wizard, this casual contact inspired his imagination. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to curl up and press her body to his, as together they watched the sun rise. To do absolutely nothing but caress her soft, virginal body, to run his fingers through her radiant hair, to mark her skin with invisible patterns made by his own two lips. Oh, what it would be like to love Luna Lovegood.

"Lovegood, I..." Draco sighed deeply, putting every word that he wanted to say in that one sigh. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he had loved her for so long. He wanted to tell her that it was him that had wooed her up in the Divination tower. He wanted to tell her that he wanted her, no matter what the cost. But he couldn't tell her. He just, couldn't tell her. "Luna." Her given name felt exotic and alien on his tongue, tasting exquisite and delightful. Oh, how badly he wanted to whisper her name over and over as she kissed him back finally, to feel her bare, milky skin stretched taut over her svelte structure. To bury his face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her sweet, mysterious scent.

She looked back at him from under those long, shining eyelashes of hers. Tear drops clung to them, glistening in the light of the magical sphere that still hung in suspension above their heads. The tears still ran down her face, but in a less steady stream. She wasn't sobbing, it would be impossible to tell how upset she was if it was not for the salty water that ran from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Luna." He whispered, saying her name once more. "I'm so, so, sorry." Apologizing felt new to him; Malfoys _never_ apologized. They were never sorry, never sorry for anything. Nothing could possibly be a Malfoy's fault, there was always someone else to blame. But this time, this time it was Draco. Just Draco, and only Draco. That's always who it would be. He couldn't pin this on anyone else. It was his fault Luna Lovegood was crying, and he was sorry.

Luna remained silent, and he could see the wheels turning in her head. She didn't say anything, she wasn't saying anything, and that scared him. He wanted her to do anything, to just say something and break that uncomfortable silence. He wanted her to yell at him, to hit him and bite him and hex the shit out of him. But instead, she just sat there, looking sad and vulnerable and as irresistible as ever.

"Have you ever seen a Crumple-Horned Snorkack before?" Her voice was soft, with a new timid quality to it. A shy smile flickered on her face as she met his stare. "I assume they're quite lovely." She mused, and Draco couldn't help but break into a grin, his eyes still glimmering with tears. "But, having never seen one, I wouldn't know for sure." She crept closer to him, taking one of his hands in both of hers once more. Then, she leaned her head in close, and he was almost sure that she was going to kiss him, _hoping_ with all his heart that she would. But instead, she whispered softly in his ear "You're not a bad man, Draco Malfoy."

Then, strategically, Draco turned his head to the side, accidentally on purpose brushing his lips against her jaw. He then trailed them up to her ear, barely touching her soft skin with his mouth, until he too could whisper in her ear. "Neither are you, Luna Lovegood." He drew back and looked right at her, right into her. His gaze flickered from her magnificent eyes to her seductive lips and back again, continuing to do so until he stood up, taking her with him.

"I should really be going now." She smiled up at him, melting him into a robed puddle on the floor. He nodded in understanding. "Am I allowed to hug you?" She asked quietly, a hopeful smile on his face. He shrugged nonchalantly, though his insides were twisting and knotting and doing elaborate gymnastic tricks. She proceeded to hug him tightly around the waist, resting her head against his chest, just over his heart. Draco was almost sure that his heart rate increased with this sudden motion of affection, and he hesitantly hugged Luna back. He realized how out of character he was, the real Draco Malfoy would never in a million years have let some girl hug him.

But she had broken him.

Luna Lovegood had cracked him with her enticing smile, and then she had set a single stick of dynamite deep in his carefully guarded kingdom, before completely blowing up his walls. The once-strong stone walls that had surrounded Draco, protecting him from all he wished not to see, all that he wished to close his eyes to. Those walls had come crumbling down in piles of dust and broken bricks as soon as she had taken his hand.

The walls were gone.

They were gone.

Draco Malfoy, was free.

**Preview:**

"**_Nobody could see that his fingers still wrapped around her wrist gently, but firmly, as if he was afraid of losing her. Truth be told, he was. That was the thing that he was the most afraid of in the world. He was scared that he would lose Luna Lovegood."_**


	7. i'll dream

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"The dreams I'll dream instead."_

* * *

He wasn't even paying attention, not even remotely. He pretended to, but he definitely had no idea what the fuck anybody was saying. He couldn't even remember the last time he had wholeheartedly listened to them. Not for a long time, that was for sure. Really, the only people he listened to were his mother -because, well, she was his mother- and Luna.

Luna, who he hadn't had a chance to talk to for five days. Their last encounter was a brief run-in after supper, and they stole a few moments in a nearby classroom to converse. At the end of the short while, Luna had hugged him tightly and lightly kissed his cheek. He still felt the burn of that spot on his face, where her lips had come in contact with his skin, even though it was merely a friendly gesture. Before that small encounter, it had been a week and six days since their talk in the secret passageway.

_Draco ran to get out of the Great Hall, his gaze trained to be sure to keep the back of Luna's head in sight. He narrowed in on her, but kept his distance. If anyone saw him approach Luna Lovegood, he was dead. No, he was deader than dead. He would be resurrected multiple times just so that he could die over and over again. Draco Malfoy would be the laughingstock of Hogwarts for the rest of the future._

_"Draco," She appeared right beside him, and he realized that in his thought of his future death sentence, he had lost track of her. "You look confused. Are you alright?" Luna asked, looking up at him with those giant eyes of hers._

_"Sure." He replied with a shrug before taking her wrist. "I need to talk to you." He murmured. She flashed a smile up at him, and his knees almost gave out. He still hadn't gotten used to the heat of her smile, the intense passion that she held in between her coy lips. They were soon swept up by the crowd, and it was squished tightly enough that it looked like Draco was merely pressed beside Luna by force. Nobody could see that his fingers still wrapped around her wrist gently, but firmly, as if he was afraid of losing her. Truth be told, he was. That was the thing that he was the most afraid of in the world. He was scared that he would lose Luna Lovegood._

_He quickly ducked into a classroom that was always empty and was never used for snogging, pulling Luna in behind him. He quickly closed the door and, pulling out his hawthorn wand, locked it. Luna freed herself of his grasp and took a seat on one of the desks, her skirt riding up to a very improper point. Draco's eyes widened as he took this new revelation of skin, and he bit down on his tongue to keep from letting out the strangled moan that was tied in the back of his throat. _

_Draco turned around and closed his eyes tightly, forcing all of the erotic thoughts he was having out of his brain. It was difficult, it was so fucking difficult. But after several moments, he was able to breath easily and look at Luna without constantly wanting to shag her right then and there on that flawless mahogany desk. _

_"Lovegood..." He sighed, her given name still a new flavour on his tongue. "I need..." He didn't even know what he was going to say, where he was going to begin. He needed her help? He needed a hug? He needed advice? He needed her opinion? What did he need from that beautiful angel Luna Lovegood?_

_"Shh," Luna replied comfortingly. Draco moved to sit on the desk facing her, and she hopped off hers, sitting next to him. Her skirt draped down again as she stood, but -fortunately for Draco- it hitched up on her leg as she sat down. She put a hand on his knee and squeezed it gently, smiling up at him. It took everything he had not to moan aloud. "You said you needed to talk to me." She stated quietly. "About what?" She asked. Draco sighed and opened his mouth to speak. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew that for Merlin's sake, he was going to say something._

_"I... there's some stuff happening. Some bad stuff." He ran a hand through his blonde hair, shutting his grey eyes from the room. "The... Death Eaters, they have some stuff planned. And, I can't tell you about it." Draco sighed. "Hell, I shouldn't be telling _anyone_ about it. But, they're planning something, something big. And... I just want you to be careful." He put a hand on her shoulder, opening his eyes and looking directly at her. His ash-coloured eyes met her entrancing phantasmagoric blue-grey ones, and he felt the saturation of her gaze carelessly tear down the lies that were on the tip of his tongue. "Just please, promise me that you'll be careful." This strength she had prevented him from saying that he was alright, that she didn't need to worry about him. He wasn't alright, he was far from it, in fact. _

_"I understand." She answered him softly. A frown appeared on her face, furrowing her eyebrows only slightly into a look of concern. "But, you've never cared before." She mused aloud. Draco sighed._

_"I know, Lovegood." He whispered. Merlin, her lips were so close to his. How easy it would be to just close the distance and capture the twin beauties with his own, making Luna his forever. However, she might run away from him; maybe not physically, but emotionally and mentally. And Draco was afraid of losing her. He couldn't lose her, she... a sudden wave of realization dropped on his head like a cold bucket of water. _She was all he had._ "But that doesn't matter now, does it? I care now, I swear it." He felt her hand squeeze his knee again in her comforting __way. "Because, well, you're... you're my..." The heat radiating off of her lips was __almost overwhelming. It was so enticing, so ruthless, pulling him in like a magnet. "Friend." The last word that slipped off his lips was faded, almost insubstantial. Luna grinned brightly._

_"Thank you." She murmured, displacing her hand from his leg -unfortunately- and wrapping her arms around him -fortunately._

_"Lovegood..." Draco sighed as she nestled into his form, hugging her back tightly. He rested his chin on the top of her blonde head, and closed his eyes. She lowered her eyelids too, her eyelashes whispering on the skin of his neck in a butterfly kiss. She fit perfectly in his arms, her slender body pressed against his. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her. "Please, be careful." He murmured into her hair._

_"I will." She responded, her voice barely above a breath. The mingled warmth of their bodies was almost enough to have Draco doing things that he was sure that he would regret in the future, and he restrained himself. Luna broke apart, leaving him feeling incomplete. "You're sweet." She said quietly, sliding back onto the floor -her skirt rode up unimaginably higher, revealing the hem of her white knickers- and twirling around to face him again. Draco dragged his hungry eyes away from her now skirt-covered thighs, and stood up as well. Luna stretched up on her tiptoes, touching her lips lightly to his cheek. _

_That spot on his face burned, but his face still didn't turn crimson, instead only gaining a light flush that he was certain she hadn't noticed. She hugged him again, and he sighed. Her smell was intoxicating, a fresh, outdoors aroma that was almost mouth-watering. He breathed in the scent of her, tattooing the memory in his mind. With a cold revelation, Draco immediately looked out the window into the dark, anywhere but at the beautiful blonde witch in front of him._

_"I better go." Luna said gently before releasing him, leaving him feeling cold and abandoned, like a young first year who had just stepped into the castle. He felt as if there was a large part of him missing. Draco was internally infinitely thankful that she couldn't see how uncontrolled he had become with the mere touch of her. She had him unraveling left and right, melting into a sexually aroused pool of quivering Slytherin Prince at her feet._

_"Sure." He replied. Draco immediately realized the awkwardness of what he had said, the word sounding uncertain and slightly gawky coming from his supposedly well-trained lips. "I, uh, I'll see you around, yeah?" He asked, as if he needed reassurance that he would indeed see her again. If not all of him, certain parts of him that he would rather leave unnamed definitely needed that reassurance._

_"Of course."_

"Do you have _any_ idea what I just said?!" Pansy's rich voice broke him from his reverie. Draco didn't even bother to turn his head to look at her, not acknowledging that she had spoken. "Hello-o? Earth to Draco Malfoy? Anybody home?" She took it upon herself to actually rap her bony knuckles against the side of his blonde head. He gave a shrug and a noncommittal grunt, and continued staring at Luna.

He had taken to watching her, as creepy as it sounded. But she was just so... inviting, captivating, entrancing. It was as if she had performed some form of non-verbal magic and cast a spell over him that had him practically mooning over her. And, who knew; maybe she had. Yes, that was it, she had definitely cast a spell over him. Judging by his symptoms, he was probably hit with the Luna Lovegood charm. An unfortunately rare spell, some were simply in awe of it, while others -meaning Draco- were absolutely head over heels for her. It wasn't womanly charm, he was almost sure. If it was simply a woman he was interested in, then he would be hopelessly chasing after Daphne Greengrass or Elizabeth Buckley, or even Kate Cartney.

But they didn't catch his fancy, not at all. At least, they hadn't in recent years. In his third and fourth year, yeah, he had fantasies about snogging them; but he had learned to think with a part of his body other than his dick. Not that he _did _think with anything else but his dick, but at least now he had a choice. It was different now; Draco Malfoy was mad for Luna Lovegood and only Luna Lovegood.

"Draco-o-o-o!" Pansy was growing more and more persistent as the nanoseconds passed. He knew that eventually she was going to worm his answer out of him. They had sort of dated last year, but that was it. Technically, they hadn't even dated. They were best friends, and had just sort of drifted together because that was the appropriate thing to do. She was a mature person in reality, but she was so insecure that she acted loads more annoying just so people wouldn't try to get close to her.

"Mm?" He finally let out another small noise, and shrugged Pansy off of him. Not that she didn't have a pleasant form -she was, after all, a girl- but it was just that she didn't have _Luna_'s body. Pansy's body was too muscular and tall, her skin wasn't nearly as milky or aesthetically pleasing to Draco's skin. Yes, Pansy actually had a wonderful figure, with a fairly-proportioned torso, but she just wasn't what Draco wanted her to be. Her hair was a dark, rich, chestnut colour, and often had it pulled back off her face in a long chocolate-brown plait. Her eyes were the wrong shade of blue, a deep blue-green that reminded him of the northern oceans, and he always felt like she could just burn holes into him if she tried hard enough. She knew him, although there were things that she wouldnb't ever know. He couldn't tell her everything after all. He couldn't tell _anybody _anything... nobody except Luna.

Luna, whose deliciously smooth and creamy skin was stretched taught over her lithe frame. Her figure was slight, a shape that most of the testosterone-driven population of Hogwarts wouldn't wank off to in the shower. Her unruly tendrils of her shining hair cascaded down to the small of her back in a waterfall of illustrious waves and curls. It was too light to be the colour of wheat, an almost impossible white-blonde. Merlin, it even _looked_ soft. And after their unplanned meeting almost three weeks ago, he knew that her hair was even softer than he had thought conceivable. Her eyes were an incredibly particular shade of silvery blue, and they were almost translucent. They could see through, not _inside_ of him, _through_ him, past all the lies, tearing down the walls and shields Draco had built around himself. She always saw through his lies of 'Really, Lovegood, I'm fine' and 'Nothing' when she asked him what was wrong, why he looked so sad.

"Why won't you listen to me, you twat?" Pansy sighed, resting her chin on his shoulder. Absentmindedly, Draco gave a shrug, maintaining eye contact with the Ravenclaw table.

He let out a loud exhale. "'Dunno." She let out a 'harumph' of annoyance and stabbed a piece of sausage viciously with her silver fork, before holding it up to his mouth.

"Eat, fuckface." She ordered. Draco raised one pale eyebrow, and delicately took the fork out of her hand, careful to prevent any contact between their skin. He slid the sausage idly off the fork with his teeth before handing her back the utensil. Pansy promptly took her arm from around him and crossed her arms across her adequately proportioned chest. "You know you're going to tell me what's wrong." She stated before returning to her own breakfast. She didn't say much after that.

But then _she_ looked at him, his keen eye finally ensnaring hers. Luna Lovegood met his eyes squarely, blue-silver against grey. Draco's gaze immediately softened and he almost smiled, but remembered himself. Dear Merlin, what would everyone say if Draco Malfoy himself was discovered with a dopey grin plastered all over his face?

_'Hi.' _She mouthed. Luna was sitting a short ways away from the girls Draco supposed to be her friends, far enough away so that they were unperturbed by her actions. The corners of his lips twitched as he used every thread of his normally strong will power in trying not to smile. Luna smiled back at him, obviously unperturbed by his strange behaviour. He briefly wondered if _anything_ could fluster Luna. She was so calm and nonbelligerent, that Draco often internally mused about how much actually penetrated her. He knew that she was incredibly acute and observant, he could tell it just by talking to her. Nothing got past her, she knew mostly everything; but how much did she connect with on a deep emotional level? Did she truly understand everything that she knew, or were all those bits and bites of information simply facts to her?

She waved subtly at him, and he couldn't help but forget everything that he had just considered. Because, that, was exactly the kind of power Luna's sleight hand had over him. She had him forgetting the rest of the world, and had an unbelievable knack for shrinking down the population of the planet to solely Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood. Draco and Luna, Luna and Draco. That was all there ever was, and all there ever would be.

"Draco, you all right?" Blaise Zabini waved a hand in front of Draco's face. The blonde boy turned his head to look at his closest friend -aside from Luna- with a newly-conjured bored look on his face. "You've been staring out into nothing since you sat down." The darker boy observed. "Something tells me you're not all there." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just tired, Zabini. Give me a bloody break." He muttered. Blaise opened his mouth and looked like he was going to come up with a striking comeback that would blow all of Draco's ships out of the water, but then he closed his mouth and returned to poking at the scrambled eggs on the plate in front of him. Draco turned back to staring at Luna, but was considerably more careful about it than he had been just moments before.

_'Are you alright?'_ Luna mouthed. Draco shrugged in response and dipped his head down, but never taking his eyes off the beautiful Ravenclaw girl.

"Draco! Are you talking to who I think you're talking to?" Pansy's voice was assaulting his ear again. He loved her, but he didn't want anyone around him while he was with Luna. Draco was somehow able not to blush a furious red in embarrassment, and he turned slowly to look at the girl that sat next to him.

"Did you hear me say anything?" Draco snapped. Pansy withered at the murderous look on his face, and began to reply.

"Well, no, but-"

"Well, Pansy Parkinson," He popped the 'p's in her name. "_Talking_, requires something called _speaking_, which one can only do by voicing words; or are you so incredibly _stupid_ that you don't understand that?" His tone was full of a vicious sting that practically shrunk her where she sat. He didn't even care if she was just asking.

As he returned to earth the look on her face practically killed him. "Sorry, Pans." He whispered before suddenly finding his toast very interesting.

"Draco!" Blaise's low voice was raised. The boy in question whipped around to face Blaise, smoke practically teeming out of his ears. "What the bloody hell was that?!" Draco opened his mouth to retort. "Pansy didn't do anything wrong! The fuck is wrong with you, Malfoy?!"

"I don't know, Zabini! I DON'T KNOW!" Draco yelled before abandoning his breakfast and stalking out of the Hall. He turned his head around as he left to see Luna looking straight at him with a forlorn expression on her beautiful face. Her eyes were filled with concern, and she stood up, subtly making her way out of the hall. Still angry, he slipped outside the door, and began walking away from the Great Hall. He couldn't deal with anyone right now, not even Luna. She had installed a sexual frustration inside of him that he could not afford to possess, not right now.

He loved her, he loved her with his whole heart and more; but at the end of the day; she was still Luna Lovegood and he was still Draco Malfoy. They were meant to be, but they were impossible. He couldn't love her, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. But he did. Oh, in Merlin's name, he did.

"Draco!" His name rang out clearly in the stone hallway, forcing him to stop walking. Draco didn't bother turning around, he knew that voice, he would know that voice anywhere. Luna's melodic voice was like a drug to him, hypnotizing him. He couldn't help but listen. But no, he couldn't listen to her, he couldn't be with anyone right now, he had to ignore her and keep running away. He had to keep running away from everything, from everyone. All he ever did was run away; so why was it so hard to keep going? It had been easy for him to run away from his fears, but now, he had to face them. Wait... was he _afraid_ of Luna? Yes. Oh yes, he was. He was afraid that she would have him on his knees with his utmost devotion, that he would lose complete control and do things that he would regret. He was afraid of losing himself.

But, who exactly was he?

Was he Draco Malfoy; the proud Slytherin son of Lucius and Narcissa, two loyal Death Eaters that were both branded with the Dark Mark? Was he the same man who had been ordered to kill the great Albus Dumbledore and would have done so, if not for the priceless ego of Severus Snape? Was he arrogant, cruel, emotionless? Was he a womanizer that had slept with multiple women and not meant any minute of it? Was he incapable of feeling things such as love, hope, compassion?

Or was he simply Draco; thrown into an uncomfortable situation that he was by no means assuaged with? Was he tender, sensitive and secretive, overwhelmed with pressure? Was he weak, unable to fulfill tasks that the Dark Lord required? Was he capable of love, of having hopes, wishes, dreams? Could he _feel_, like a real person could?

Maybe... maybe he was a bit of both.

Who was he?

"Draco, wait!" He had attempted to start walking again, but had stopped before taking his second step. Luna's footsteps sounded quietly on the flagstone floor, her sneakers creating a soft noise rather than louder thuds, like Draco's shoes had. "Listen to me!" She caught up to him, and he turned around, still breathing heavily with anger. "What's wrong?" She asked innocently, using the same voice she used when she spoke to the Thestrals. He was still taking deep breaths, and looked away from her, closing his eyes. He felt one of her gentle hands rest on his shoulder, and he almost cringed away from her comforting touch out of sheer pride. He didn't need her help, her gentle touch, her kind words. He didn't deserve any of it, he deserved to be left alone, to suffer all by himself. He didn't deserve affection of any sorts; he never would.

"What is it, Lovegood?" He breathed, meaning for the question to come out as snappy, defensive; but instead he sounded willing to let her in. Although he didn't like to admit it, he wanted nothing more than to let her in. She took his hand, and he opened his eyes. She offered a bright smile, and led him back to the classroom they had occupied only five days before, locking the door.

"You're not alright, Draco." It was stated as an observation, as if it was a fact that everyone knew. And, judging from his behaviour in the Great Hall just a minute ago, everyone probably did. "You're not okay, and you need to tell me why." Her voice was firm, almost completely losing her dreamy air. "You need to tell me why, or something bad is going to happen." He looked back at her, and immediately regretted it. Her eyes were pleading with him, pleading with him to tell her what was wrong. She cared, it was obvious. She cared about him. And that scared him even more.

Draco shook out of her grip, and punched the wall with a clenched fist. He was absolutely shaking with rage, fear, confusion, frustration. He couldn't understand what had made him become the way he was, and that freaked him out. He felt like he was losing who he was, because he didn't know what kind of person he was anymore.

Who was he?

"Incendio!" He cried, flourishing his wand at a broken desk in the corner. The small brown piece of furniture burst into angry flames, burning brightly. Luna sighed and took Draco's wand hand, lowering it gently. She took out her own wand, and with a murmur of 'aguamenti', doused the flames in a flawless arc of pure, sparkling, clear water. He continued to shudder violently before sinking down to the floor. Luna crouched beside him, stroking his back in a friendly way. The touch of her hand on his back alone was almost enough to arouse him again; almost. "I'm scared, Luna." He whispered, running his hands through his hair and propping up his elbows on his knees. Luna changed to moving her hand in circles on his back, and Draco leaned into the movement of her hands, relishing in the fact that she was touching him. "I don't know what to do. I want everything to go back to normal, before the, er..." He hung his head in his hands, and Luna leaned on him. "I can see Thestrals now." He said quietly. Luna sighed.

"It was Professor Burbage, wasn't it?" She asked, her voice soft, gentle, calm. Draco jerked his head to look at her.

"How... how did you-?"

"She loves teaching, she wouldn't have left unless she had been forced to. When she didn't come back this year, I assumed that she was dead. I mean, she'd rather die than give up her class." Luna sighed. "You flinch whenever somebody mentions the Muggle Studies class or Professor Burbage." She offered a small, sympathetic smile. "It was just a lucky guess." She concluded softly.

"Yeah," He leaned back into her. "Yeah, it was... her. She... during the summer, we... the Death Eaters, er, there was a meeting. And, she had been taken prisoner after the school year was over. The Dark Lord, er, he said that she was... a Muggle-lover, and then she, she said Snape's name, and then the snake... he -the Dark Lord- has this, this enormous snake, Nagini, and it... it k-killed her." He choked out. He hadn't told anyone about this particular situation, he _couldn't_, but he didn't mind telling Luna. It was okay to tell her. "I... I'm just so scared. I don't know what's going to happen, and that fucking scares the shit out of me." He whispered shakily. "I'm so scared,"

"I know." She whispered back. That was all that she needed to say, and all that was needed to be said. "I know."

**Preview:**

"**Maybe, _everyone else_ was seeing things lopsided, through a wonky carnival mirror that stretched and altered their perception. Maybe they were seeing everything with blinders not unlike the ones that racehorses wore, or through a pair of dark-tinted sunglasses that only showed silhouettes. Maybe Luna was really the only person who knew what was going on."**


	8. break

**close your eyes**

* * *

"_Bending you till you break."_

* * *

Draco was sprawled out on one of the majestic evergreen chesterfield in the empty Slytherin common room; hands behind his head, eyes closed lightly. He was still imagining Luna's caring touches on his skin, the list going from her rubbing circles on his back -which had happened- from her lips tickling his face with kisses -which had _not_ happened. He was happy to fantasize about Luna. It didn't do any harm, did it? He couldn't help it if the mere thought of her had his entire body throbbing with hunger, couldn't help it if he wanted to kiss her passionately in the moonlight. It's not like he went to bed and jerked off to the mental images he had of her, it wasn't like that. Malfoys had more dignity than _that_. Not much more dignity, but nonetheless more dignity than raunchy activities such as masturbation.

However, he often had very vivid dreams of Luna as some sort of sex goddess who found him irresistibly sexy. Yes, he had had dreams where she got down on her knees in front of him and did the dirty deed that Luna Lovegood would probably never do. He had had dreams about touching her, about her touching him, every possibly combination of anything that he found even slightly arousing.

Draco wanted to moan aloud at her tender touches and not care who heard, to say her name over and over again as they made love slowly and passionately in some romantic setting. He wanted the Room of Requirement to change into a radiant honeymoon suite, with all the right furnishings and accommodations. The wide, white walls would stretch magnificently for yards upon yards, the glistening white the same colour as the bedspread. The king-sized bed would be cushy yet firm, and unused, created for Draco and Luna alone, and covered in soft Egyptian cotton sheets and plump goose-down pillows. The floor would be a soft, downy carpet of a pure ocean blue, and would stretch over the entire room. In one corner, there would be a magnificent fireplace where an everlasting fire would burn, without the risk of anything in the room catching fire. One wall of the vast room would be entirely covered in large bay windows, one of the windows disguising a sliding door that led to a balcony. On the balcony there would be a large hot tub, with thousands of bubbles that were coloured with thousands of pastel hues, from a soft piglet-pink to an orange the tint of ripe apricots to mint green and powder blue. There would be lush, white terry-cloth towels that the couple would use to dry each other off with, and matching dressing gowns that would keep them warm as they sat by the fire in the snug loveseat. There would be music playing; Draco's -and Luna's- favourites that influenced the romantic and sexually tense mood.

"Oi!" Draco slowly opened his eyes to see Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy standing at the edge of the common room. They walked towards him as if they were a gang; with Blaise as the ruthless leader, Pansy as the tough girlfriend of the ruthless leader, and Crabbe and Goyle starring as the unintelligent and beefy members that would most likely get killed by a lither opponent during a fight. "Draco!" Blaise boomed.

"Yup, that's my name." The blonde boy replied coolly. He was in absolutely no mood to talk to these numbskulls about whatever was bothering him. It was none of their business... well, it was none of Blaise or Pansy's business. Crabbe and Goyle were just as involved with the Death Eaters as he was. Pansy just found it cool that Draco had so much power, and Blaise was, well, very blase about it all. The latter-most Slytherin marched straight up to Draco, who was adamant on staying on the couch, and jabbed one mocha-coloured finger in the pale boy's face.

"I don't know what in Merlin's name is your problem, Draco, but you better grow a pair and deal with it." He hissed. "You're bugging all of us, you git, so why don't you just get off of your high Hippogriff and let somebody help you?" Draco wanted to retort that in fact, somebody _was_ helping him, but he knew that his cohorts wouldn't appreciate that piece of information, especially if they knew who that somebody was.

"I'm fine, Zabini, I rea-"

"No, Draco, you're not." Blaise cut him off before he had a remote chance to create a false story about how he was really just doing peachy keen, and that he was just tired because he'd been up late doing schoolwork and bullshit such as that. "Save the lies; we all know that that's all you've been doing -lying." He said fiercely. Draco rolled his eyes and directed his gaze elsewhere, looking anywhere but at the four students that stood around him. He suddenly realized just how interesting the plain green-grey paint on the walls was, exactly how fascinating the glowing lights were. "And you're taking your fucking problems out on all of us. On me, on Crabbe, on Goyle, on Pan, on the first years, on the other seventh years. The bloody hell is wrong with you?" Draco stood up calmly, raising both eyebrows in annoyance and turning to leave.

"I know what's wrong with 'im." The blonde boy froze, swiveling around on his heels. Crabbe's upper lip was curled in a sneer as he spoke in his gruff, thundering voice. The former clenched his fists at his side. Now he was being dissed by _Crabbe_? Crabbe, who had no idea what letter his name started with, what year it was, or where the dungeons were. Crabbe, who thought with his stomach. _Crabbe_ knew what was wrong with him? Please. There was more possibility of Nargles existing. Draco scoffed.

"Oh, do you now? You know 'what's wrong' with me?" He spat. "Do you?" Crabbe held his numerous chins out defiantly.

"Yeah, I do." He replied.

"Well let's hear it then." Draco snarled, his one hand reaching subtly in his pocket to grasp his wand. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was not going to end cleanly. Crabbe took one step closer, his foot coming down heavily, assaulting the floor.

"A'righ'? Yeah, ya wanna hear i'?" Draco could tell that the beefier boy was trying his hardest to enunciate, but the words were lost before they had left the tip of his meaty tongue. "Well, I'll tell ya, then. Yer scared, Draco. The Dark Lord gave ya a job t'do, an' ya couldn' do i'. Ya failed 'im, Draco. An' now, he's mad at ya, an' poor wittle Dwaco's all scared 'cause he don' got 'is mum and 'is da' to come 'ere, wavin' their wan's an' doin' the stuff 'e's s'posed to do." Goyle, Blaise, and Pansy blinked, and Draco knew why. Firstly; Crabbe rarely ever spoke more than three or four words at a time, usually only communicating with neanderthalic grunts. Secondly; nobody had ever thought that he would know how to piece a sentence together in his mind, much less say one. And lastly; none of them knew exactly what he was saying. However, the message was getting across clearly, which made Draco stiffen with anger. "Yer lyin', now, 'cause ya don' know wha'else t'do. I'mean, i's not like yer any use to 'im, amIrigh'? Yer just a scrawny little runt, Draco, who dun' know any be'er then to'run away screamin' an' cryin', like a spoiled little baby who can't even think fer 'imself 'alf the time. I's crazy 'ow ya thunk tha' yer be'er than any of us, Draco. Yer dad idn't gunna be 'round 'ere f'rever, ya poof." He popped the 'p' on the last word, which he emphasized. Draco closed his eyes, trying to hold back and keep from hexing Crabbe's brains out. However, he was almost too surprised to, seeing as it must have taken Crabbe years of rehearsing to finally come up with a monologue such as that.

Until just recently, most of the castle thought that he was illiterate and didn't speak any sort of language known to humankind.

"I'm not a poof." Draco muttered. Crabbe laughed loudly, sounding unlike he ever had before. The laugh was a hearty laugh, almost maniacal, rumbling from deep down within the large boy.

"Really? Coulda fooled us, aye?" The brunette boy grinned, a screwed smile plastered all over his face in an ugly slant. He pulled out his gnarled wand, the length of yew tree wood pointed threateningly at Draco. The pale blonde boy quickly drew his wand, taking a step back. Crabbe sneered and stepped foward, keeping the distance at the length it had been before.

"Crabbe..." Blaise warned the largest boy, his low voice soothing. His gaze flicked to Draco, an urgent look on his handsome face. Draco knew what had the darker boy so worried; this was getting out of hand. Crabbe was going to do something that he could not undo. Out of the quintet, Crabbe was the most excited about Dark Magic. Goyle certainly enjoyed curses and such, but he had the dignity to refrain from using the dirty spells every chance he got. Now, Crabbe was just waiting for a reason, he had even gone as far as to attempt to create a reason to use an Unforgivable curse or a Dark spell, jinx, or hex. The small group worried about him, he was winding gradually more and more out of control, and he was going to end up spinning so wildly into oblivion that he was going to get hurt, or worse.

"Ya think yer so grea' 'cause yer parents are all up with the Dark Lor', eh?" Crabbe continued viciously. "Well, y'aren't!" He cried. "Yer jus' as low as the restofus, an', an'..." He paused, as if he wasn't sure what to say next. Draco had to keep from smiling, as he assumed that Crabbe _had_ actually forgotten what strange sort of poor comeback his foul mouth was going to expel next. "An' yer dad got caught an' locked up in Azbakan-"

"It's _Azkaban_, idiot." Draco retorted hotly. Crabbe turned a deep, angry red and his pudgy face contorted into a glare.

"Ya think yer so smar', don'tcha?" He sneered. "Ya think you've been foolin' ev'ryone, don'tcha?" His voice grew a few notches in volume as he spoke. "Bu' not me, Draco. Yer not foolin' me. Ya think tha' jus' b'cause yer parents are so high an' migh'y tha' nobody cares wha' in Merlin's name ya do! Butyer not foolin' me!" Draco could have sworn that he saw a flash of deep blood-red pulse through Crabbe's muddy green eyes, and took an instinctive step back as a faint heartbeat of fear and uncertainty beat from the pulsing organ in his chest. He suddenly regretted egging on the ruthless boy, but couldn't help himself from shooting back a few more snide remarks that he regretted immediately after.

That pushed the larger boy over the edge. "YER GUNNA REGRE' Y'EVER SAID THA', DRACO FUGGIN' MALFOY!" Crabbe bellowed in his blind rage, alarming some unsuspecting third years that had just walked in. The terrified students promptly bolted across the room to the dormitories, mumbling goodbyes to one another and rushing up the stairs. "CONFRINGO!" A brilliant jet of orchid and thistle coloured light blew past Draco, grazing his ear and hitting a bust of a lovely young woman on the mantle of the large fireplace. Draco ducked as another curse was shot his way.

The expression on Crabbe's foul face was almost inhuman, animalistic. He was no longer Vincent Crabbe, second crony to Draco Malfoy: Slytherin Prince; he was a beastly creature, with instincts that told him to kill, wound, injure. He seemed to be absolutely overcome with blood-lust, and that scared the hell out of everyone in that room. He enjoyed torture. He was just like the Carrows.

"PROTEGO!" Draco yelled instinctively, watching as the bright white shield shot from the tip of his hawthorn wand, creating a barrier between him and the madman. Crabbe kept throwing curses, hexes, jinxes, some of which Draco had never heard used before. It suddenly dawned on Draco that Crabbe wasn't just taking this as an idle duel; he meant to hurt him. And by George, he was going to keep flinging spells until Draco's shield broke, and then he would get him for good.

"CRUCI-"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" In one swift movement Draco cut Crabbe off with the Disarming Charm, the twisted yew wand flying out from his chubby fist before he could complete his shout of the Unforgivable Curse. The wand was caught by Blaise, who leaped into the air to grab it. "Incarcerous." Draco muttered, thick robes flying from the end of his wand and wrapping around Crabbe, who thrashed wildly against his restraints, the murderous glint still flashing in the irises of his eyes. A part of Draco felt paralyzed with shock; had one of his closest companions really just tried to practice one of the deadliest curses in the world on _him_? Did Crabbe really hate Draco enough to want to cause him extreme pain?

Taking a quick, fervent look at the shocked expressions on his housemates' faces, Draco raced out of the handsomely decorated common room. He didn't bother looking back again, he just focused on the winding corridors ahead of him. His entire world was falling apart, and it was all his fault. If he had never fallen for Luna Lovegood, then he would be content to sit in the dark and blindly succumb to the Dark Lord's will without really considering what it was exactly that he was doing. He would have been happy being blind to the horrible world around him, only influenced by the propaganda and his parents. But Luna made him see. She made him see the light behind it, the man operating the schemes from behind the emerald curtain. She made him see that what he was doing had an effect, that he couldn't just go about wearing a proud Malfoy/Death Eater/Pureblood badge and waving his wand whilst muttering cruel incantations.

In a sense, she had rescued him. She was his angel, taking his hand gently and leading him through the twisted labyrinth that he had so carelessly stepped into. She showed him that they were just people, they were all _just people_. There was nothing that set people on a higher ledge than others, they were all on the same playing field. Yes, there was a handful that liked to pretend that they were higher up, that they were worth more in comparison to everybody else; but no matter their argument, at the end of the day they were all _just people_. Luna showed him that there were consequences to the actions that that handful was taking to attempt to prove their superiority. She showed him that he didn't have to be one of those people, no matter the mob mentality. She believed in him. She believed that he wasn't all that he was cut out to be. She was brutally honest with him, and her honesty was one of the reasons why he loved her.

He mentally paused, trying to decide something. Why _did_ he love her? What was it about her that had caught his eye, what had made him drop everything and put everything he thought he wanted on hold for her? Why was he bothering with her? What made him love her?

It could be because Luna was hands-down the most merciful, tenderhearted people he had ever met. She expressed nothing but kindness to those who replied with inappropriate humour or pure insults. She would go out of her way to rush to the aid of somebody she barely knew, whether that meant dropping her own priorities. _Humankind_ was Luna's priority. She was a comforting presence to have when she was needed, or even when she wasn't. It didn't matter what sort of horribly situation there was, Luna could make it better.

Or maybe, it was the way she treated everyone she met with the utmost politeness, no matter who they were, or what their relationship was. Even Professor Snape, who had humiliated her in class -so Draco had heard- on multiple occasions was given the same friendly air from the lovely blonde girl. Yes, it was true that Luna would stand up for what she believed was right, her words powerful and backed up strongly, but she always had the most courteous way of doing it that she was often overlooked. When Dumbledore had been proclaimed dead, Luna was the first to raise her lit wand to the sky. Although the gesture was originally hers, she was never given credit. The movement was simply associated with Dumbledore's death, not the spark of idea that the young Ravenclaw had possessed.

Or even that at times, she was so honest that it was almost uncomfortable. She didn't have the social sense to refrain from pointing out an awkward truth, but still managed to do it in a respectful fashion. She would notice aspects and angles that nobody else had observed, not hesitating to display the lopsided point of view that she had on things. Or, perhaps, she was the only one who saw things for what they really were. Maybe, _everyone else_ was seeing things lopsided, through a wonky carnival mirror that stretched and altered their perception. Maybe they were seeing everything with blinders not unlike the ones that racehorses wore, or through a pair of dark-tinted sunglasses that only showed silhouettes. Maybe Luna was really the only person who knew what was going on.

Or perhaps, it was because it was a known statistic that Luna kept every secret that she was told. Most people assumed that it was because she didn't have anyone to tell her secrets to, but Draco was convinced otherwise. She had friends, she could climb her way to the top if she told anybody the secrets that she knew. But she was respectful enough to keep other people's business away from the rabid mob of gossipers. She kept those important bits of information between her, and the party who had been keeping the secret. Luna had a certain enchanting quality that had people feel a certain ease around her. They trusted her enough to know that she wouldn't harm them by letting the Bludger out of the case, so to speak. Her personality somehow magnetized people towards her, seducing them into telling her their heaviest secrets and feeling as light as a cloud afterward.

But, it could also be her beauty. In spades, Luna was the most beautiful person he had ever met. She was physically attractive to Draco, there was no question about it. With her devil-may-care styled blonde hair that was almost the exact colour of the glittering North Star, the wavy locks that were alluringly soft to Draco's careful, tempted touch. Her wide, doe-like eyes were of a most enrapturing hue, as if they were unable to decide whether they wanted to be a celestial blue, or a grey that was not unlike liquid mercury. They were framed by her long, pale eyelashes that were the same tint as that of her hair and her perfectly shaped eyebrows, which were arched in a look that delivered her a permanently surprised and amused expression. Her skin was creamy in colour, and smooth and soft, stretched pleasantly tightly over her vestal body. It smelled absolutely intoxicating to Draco; she smelled like a vast, open space. Airy, outdoors, like dreams and impossibilities. She smelled like happiness, like sunshine and rain, like love and hope, like snow and like the sun; she smelled like Luna. However, the essence of Luna, her spirit, was even more beguiling in comparison to her looks. She saw the goodness in everyone, that figurative beacon of white light that shone in the beating hearts of every single person. It didn't matter who this person was, even if they were the darkest of persons; the arrogant and proud Slytherin Prince with his carefully constructed mask of hatred and foul personality. Luna would see what this person could be, the potential they had. She knew that even the darkest wizard wasn't all bad. And those walls that each individual built up around themselves? The stars would zoom down from the heavens at a speed faster than light itself, and smash down those walls, brick by boring brick. It wasn't just Draco that had been affected by Luna Lovegood's power; it was everybody.

Perhaps, that was why he loved her?

**Preview:**

"**"Just be safe, Luna. These are dark times, and he wouldn't want you to get hurt." Her voice darkened at the end, and she looked almost sad or upset when she had finished."**


	9. the lover held her

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"The lover held her love; she begged him not to go."_

* * *

It was a lovely night.

Or, rather, Luna thought it was.

The sky was a dark, stormy colour, a shade that was unsure as to whether it was a regal navy blue, or a violent black. Though the skies weren't clear, the stars obscured by the angry clouds that one could almost mistake for curiously shaped mountains, Luna was enchanted. The vast sky was a fascinating scene, it almost looked like a painting that would have belonged in the impressionist movement. The sky looked to be almost textured, much unlike the smooth, fluid effect of a watercolour. Luna could almost see the brush strokes left by the figurative paintbrush, hurriedly formed blocks created by an invisible artist's careful hand. It was painted with a palette that ranged from a royal blue to a mystical mauve, to the lightest hint of silvery grey that cast an eerie glow where the moon should have been hanging in the galaxy. There were a few breaks in the clouds, where Luna could catch a glimpse of some of the farthest-away stars, the ones that didn't shine as brightly as the closer ones. The sky behind the clouds was a deep sapphire blue, almost a hybrid of lapis and the hue of the Atlantic ocean. The willowy shadows that were the macabre Dementors were silhouetted in the dim light emitted by the mostly-hidden moon. They circled the castle hungrily, like cloaked vultures that ringed around a stinking corpse of something that had once been an animal. Even then, the night was beautiful.

Luna sighed quietly, looking out of her dormitory window and into the lovely, dark night. She was curled up on the windowsill, her eyes wide and reflecting the image that they took in. The castle was illuminated with moonlight from the waning moon, each boring, worn-out brick telling a story of its very own. The castle was like a ghost in itself, begging for each inhabitant to listen to the story that it wanted to badly to vocalize. Its thoughts were the shadows cast by the skeletal window frames, the creaks of the wooden floors in the turrets of the towers, the whistling of the wind as it blew through the long corridors. When one took the time to listen, only then could the secrets of the magical old school be revealed.

But most students wouldn't take that time. They were too busy rushing through their life, wasting it away second by second. A minute here, forty-two seconds there, three minutes here... it all added up. Nobody knew that they were wasting their time being so busy that they couldn't slow down to see that the portrait of the young boy in the sailor's suit really _did_ have something important to say, or that the Grey Lady was crying and nobody would take a moment out of their day to comfort her, that Peeves could actually carry out an intelligent conversation. But everyone was too preoccupied with their own lives to care for anyone else, to hear the secrets of the castle.

Except for Luna. Luna, who appreciated the true beauty of the school, who stopped to converse with the portraits even if it meant completely missing out on lunch. Luna, who would approach the Grey Lady and merely listen to her tell her tragic tale, so that the spirit could move on with her afterlife.

Now, being exactly who she was, Luna couldn't help but want to wander outside, even though she knew that she would surely be penalized for doing so, if she was caught. She smiled to herself as she decided how she would avoid her punishment; she wouldn't get caught. It was simple, really. Others would spend hours devising a plan as to how they were going to execute their intentions, but Luna only had one goal, and that was to not get caught. That was all that needed to be thought out.

Luna surveyed the room, silently looking over her sleeping companions. An entertained smile played with the corners of her lips at the sight of the three girls. Phoebe, like always, was curled up in a little ball under the mound of blankets, most of which she had created out of magic. Veronica was sleeping as if she was in a beauty commercial; on her side, hands folded under her head, her hair back off of her face, save for the dusting of front bangs that brushed over her exquisite face. The blankets were neatly placed over her body, and her chest rose and fell as she took soft breaths in and out. The smallest, most mysterious of smiles was etched on her face, as if she was having a lovely dream. Sophia, on the other hand, was tossing and turning as if she was being poked with razor-sharp nails on both sides of her body at alternating times. Luna frowned, flitting over to her roommate and pulling out her rosewood wand. She murmured a brief incantation that she had learned while reading a spell-book, watching with wide, curious eyes as a fuchsia fog curled out from the wand tip, snaking through the air into Sophia's right ear. Almost immediately, Sophia slowed her movements before they gradually became nothing altogether, leaving the eldest girl deep in a peaceful slumber.

The blonde smiled coyly before stowing the slender stick back in her pocket and turning silently on her heel. She stole out of the dormitories, soundlessly passing through the dark common room, the still-burning fire crackling bright in the hearth, casting eerie orange shadows on the midnight-blue walls, the light reflecting off of her shining eyes, giving her an impression not unlike that of a cat prowling around under the night's soft black cloak of mystery. Still wary to keep her feet from making any sound on the floor, Luna cautiously pushed the door of the common room out into the susurrant tower. She stepped taciturnly into the darkness, her sense of sight muffled, but her kinesthetic and auditory senses were having a field day. Every little creak of the old castle was projected clearly into the basin of her mind, each whisper of a draught exaggerated into a tornado against her sensitive skin.

"Hello, Luna." The familiar, aristocratic and elegant voice of Helena Ravenclaw's ghost penetrated the comfortable silence. The mournful, gentle tone echoed somberly in the tower, inspiring a deeper smile on Luna's slightly parted lips.

With a swish of her wand and a soft incantation, a dim light appeared at the end of the rosewood stick, just enough for Luna's keen eyesight to make out the form of the Grey Lady.

"Good evening," Luna replied cheerfully, careful to keep her voice a low whisper, throwing caution to the wind, and her common sense tiptoeing out of its cave and reminding her of the difficult times that she lived in. She couldn't get caught, or there would be Hell to pay.

"You should go back to bed, Luna, it's not safe out here." The normally cursory air of Helena's voice was almost lost, the majority of it replaced with a dire warning.

Luna paused to consider the cause and effects of the actions she was adamant on taking. It wasn't something that she normally did, she usually threw caution outside into the bracing air and lived in the moment, abandoning regret and nervousness.

And then she remembered that feeling in her gut, as if her heart was a violin, abandoned in an orchestra pit, sitting alone and untouched on a soft black stool, waiting. Then, a shadowed figure had curiously wandered into the theatre, drawing nearer and nearer before finally approaching the delicate instrument. Then suddenly, the figure stretched out a smooth hand and picked up the slender bow that rested against the legs of the stool, waiting, forgotten. Before the actions were even comprehended, the figure's other hand picked up the violin, and ran the bow across its strings, creating a mournful humming sound that reverberated through the open black space. The newly created sound vibrated the strings, bouncing off the walls and creating an echo, reminding Luna that it was still there, that there was a beautiful creation that had been brought up from nothing into something that was purely there.

The strings of her violin heart still vibrated, they still made that noise. Because her mystery boy had played them ever so softly, but gently reminded her that he was always there; that he would always be there. Always. And as for Luna, she would always remember him.

Always.

Luna forced an intermission to her imaginative mind that filled itself with poetic analogies and whims, directing her focus towards what she was doing. Or rather, what she was _not_ doing, which was replying to the Grey Lady's voiced concern. She took a second to come up with a response, before slowly opening her mouth and giving a small sigh.

"I'm fine." She whispered, staring directly into her deceased companion's misty semi-transparent eyes. "You don't need to worry about me, but thank you anyway." Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter gave a petite, mournful sigh that Luna would almost have missed if she hadn't been so focused on the willowy form of the ghost.

"Very well," Helena murmured. "Just be safe, Luna. These are dark times, and he wouldn't want you to get hurt." Her voice darkened at the end, and she looked almost sad or upset when she had finished.

The small blonde girl flashed a radiant smile in response that could almost light up the dreary corridor, her signature grin that was a beam of sunlight in itself breaking up the blackness of the night into pieces, like a shattered bottle. The same smile that made any beholder feel safe, like there was somebody there watching out for them, helping them, making sure that they were not alone.

Luna's smile faltered slightly. "_He_?" She asked, echoing one of the Grey Lady's words. She was ignited with a spark of curiosity as she pondered whether she had merely misinterpreted what Helena said, or whether it was true, that there _was_ a 'he' who cared about her.

Another thought hit her like a Bludger from Fred Weasley's Beater bat to any member of the Slytherin team; hard, fast, and painfully.

Silver eyes. Silver, like the full moon obscured with clouds, but that still shone bright enough to illuminate the dark shadows.

Blonde hair. Ice blonde, like it was once a rich, golden blonde that had been left outside for many years, beaten by the rain and the snow and bleached by the sun until it was so changed that it didn't remember what it had been once before.

He.

And then she heard her name, faintly, seductively calling to her like a whisper of truth amidst all the lies and treachery they faced today. Her name sounded ethereal in the darkness, like she was dreaming it, only dreaming and was about to awake suddenly to the bright lights of the morning. Curious, she pinched the skin on her upper arm with the tips of her fingers, using enough power to cause a slight sting. She closed her eyes tightly and rubbed at them with her knuckles, like a small child trying not to let on just how tired they really are.

"Luna," Her name floated around in the corridor like a myth or a legend. Luna knew it was there, but she questioned the origin and how much was real. Then her name escaped into the night once more, thrust from invisible lips like a shooting star soaring through an onyx sky. He called to her, drawing him to her like a moth to a torch's light.

She cried out as a hand clamped itself over her mouth, the sharp sound muffled by the barrier that had placed itself between Luna's lips and the cool October night air.

"It's me," His voice whispered, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke the two short words. His voice sounded so good against her inner ear. It sounded like promises, like dreams and like wishes all washed in icy water so that they were numb. His voice was soft, caring, with a barely noticeable edge of uncertainty. It was familiar to Luna, so familiar that his name was just behind her lips. Yet his name was always concealed under her tongue, hiding away from her because she knew that it wasn't time to realize who he was just quite yet. The mystery of their relationship was fun, and Luna didn't mind. She liked not knowing things, it humanized her and reminded her that she was just like everybody else.

His anonymity suited him, and she had to wonder whether he even existed, or whether she was, in fact, dreaming. Maybe he didn't have a name; figments of her imagination often wandered around without titles. They were simply who they were, without names and without labels that restricted them to being that single being.

If he was a dream, then she was content with sleeping.

She relaxed her shoulders, having brought them up with the sudden presence of her mysterious companion. He dropped his hand from her mouth, letting it rest on her shoulder.

"She told me you were coming," Luna said quietly, her airy voice dissolving into the atmosphere mere nanoseconds after breaking from her tongue. She knew that she didn't have to elaborate on the first subject of her last sentence any further, he knew what she meant when she said 'she'.

"I know." He replied, his voice low. "Quietly, this way." He said firmly, holding her shoulders and guiding her into a broom closet. It was dark, and Luna wondered briefly if she would ever see him again with her own two eyes. She knew that they would meet again, but that curious section of her lusted for a glimpse of his blonde hair and silver grey eyes again. "Sit, please," Luna obeyed without protest, calmly upturning a bucket and taking a seat.

She watched as her companion sat down opposite her, still cast in total darkness. His face was still hidden from her, the absence of light forcing her eyes to adjust to the blackness. But even as her eyes adjusted, he continued to be shielded behind the walls of pitch-black night that surrounded the both of them. "Something's concerning you?" He asked.

Luna's brows knitted together in a small frown, pursing her rosy pink lips together and nodding ever-so-slightly. "It's not fair, really." She grabbed one of her thoughts, but it was only a fragment of a thought and she knew that he would not be able to understand what she was talking about. "It's not fair that you can see me, and you know who I am and you know my name, but I don't know anything about you. I don't know what you look like, I don't know how old you are or what house you're in. I know next to nothing about you." She was careful to keep her voice quiet, but her frustration leaked through.

Luna Lovegood? Frustrated? No, it couldn't be. Could it? Definitely. Luna rarely got frustrated, it was difficult to anger or annoy her. She tried to see the good in everything, and that numbed out the bad.

But with him, she was frustrated. It wasn't fair that he knew everything about her and got to put her in broom closets and everything and she didn't even know what the first letter of his name was.

"Oh." He replied.

A silence shuffled its way in between them, sitting down comfortably and taking up all the available space in the small closet. Luna could practically hear the cogs and gears in his head working to come up with some alibi to feed her.

"You would hate me if you knew who I was." He was the first to speak after many minutes of silence. Luna's eyes widened at the definite edge in his voice, a bitterness that she had not yet heard come from him. He also sounded full to the brim with regret, as if he wished for her to know who he was, and despised that he had to hide himself from her.

He didn't understand that he didn't have to hide himself from her. He didn't have to hide from her.

Since he insisted on doing to, there was nothing left for Luna to say.

The blonde girl stood up from the stool without a word, her hand reaching to open the door. Her companion mimicked her actions, his hand covering her own.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice laced with panic, like he was desperate not to lose her. He stepped closer to her, the tension around his body threatening to spread to Luna's.

It was a few seconds before she could come up with a reply. In these seconds one of his hands moved to lightly touch her arm, grabbing a gentle hold of it. His lips were level with her eyes, and only a breath away. "I wouldn't." She breathed. He made a small noise of confusion. "I wouldn't hate you."

He bent his head down, brushing his lips across hers. "Yes, you would." He murmured against her lips before swiftly pushing the door open and slipping past her, disappearing easily into the shadows.

"I _couldn't_." Luna whispered to the air, stepping out of the closet.

**Preview:**

**"Curious, he flicked his eyes towards her, saw that she was staring at him, now, and then quickly redirected his gaze back to the water. "What's funny, Lovegood?" He asked indifferently. He saw her smile, he practically _felt_ her smile, but continued with his stoic facade. Ah, yes, he was truly an expert on acting like nothing in the world could possibly make him care. When, in fact, nothing in the world could possibly make him care more than he did for Luna Lovegood.**

**"How you always lie to me." She said, the calm in her voice surreal and unbelievable. How could she say something like that so serenely, so contentedly? How could she be happy with his lies? He turned his head sharply to face her, drinking in the everlasting blue of her eyes." **


	10. these silent waves part i

**close your eyes**

* * *

___"These silent waves are my company."_

* * *

_I wouldn't hate you._

I wouldn't hate you. I wouldn't hate you. I wouldn't hate you. I wouldn't hate you. I wouldn't hate you. I wouldn't hate you.

Her words echoed in his ears with an unfamiliar power, a strength Draco had not felt before. It was like there was this continual beating that reverberated around in his skull, like a chant. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump... or, was that his own heartbeat? Was his own heart beating so loudly and clearly that it sounded like a different being all by itself?

What was happening to his world? The smiles that had been permanently plastered onto the faces of children were now contorted in horror, their mouths agape as their lives were slashed to bloody pieces in front of them, their families disappearing in flashes of green light. There was no hope for anything anymore, and he wished there was a way out at the end of the tunnel but there was nothing there. It was like he was falling, plunging down the rabbit hole as if she was sucked down by an unseen vacuum. And he was trying to grab hold of something, anything to keep him from falling into the deep despair that lay below, chomping its glorious fangs and sharpening its claws on the broken bones of the other misfits that had fallen down that same hole. There was nothing to stop him. He was going to be lost in the infinite world, there was nothing at the bottom but nothingness, which in contrary is everything.

Nothing. Everything. Infinity. Draco briefly wondered if those were, in fact, different words describing the same thing. When one is instructed to think of nothingness, a blank white space comes to mind. But there is something there, for the blank white space exists, does it not? It does, and it doesn't; the possibility of an infinite nothingness is impossible to grasp.

_I wouldn't hate you._

It had been weeks since he had last seen her, and still her words echoed around his world. Everywhere he went, her voice followed. He heard her in his sleep, during class, during the Summonings.

Luna Lovegood was inescapable.

Draco stared into the dark, bottomless depths of the Black Lake, watching for the mysterious creatures that lurked beneath the surface. He picked up a handful of stones of all different shapes and all roughly the same size as the knuckle of his thumbs. Using fingers from his other hand, he tossed them into the water, one by one. He brushed the dirt off on the legs of his trousers. It was cold outside, far too cold for a young man to be sitting on the edge of a lake wearing nothing but his school uniform, a charcoal-grey hat and a thick woollen jumper of the same colour. There was a slight dusting of frost on the ground, reminding him that it was almost winter and that he should probably be inside by the giant green fireplaces. He crossed his legs and hugged his knees loosely to his chest as he reminded himself that the Slytherin common room was one of the last places he would like to be. His Housemates were in there. Crabbe – he still hadn't forgotten that this individual had tried to kill him – and Goyle, Zabini and Pansy... they all wanted a piece of him. Crabbe and Goyle needed someone to tell them what to do and feel like they were a part of something great, and Zabini and Pansy wanted to know what was wrong with him and what he had done with the Draco they had known in the earlier years.

The truth was, he wasn't sure what he had done with the former Draco. He was still his old self, technically speaking, but it was like he was trying to start a new life. A _tabula rasa_, a clean slate. He just wanted a chance to start over.

He wondered what things would be like if everything was different. He wondered how things would end up now if his parents weren't Death Eaters, or if he hadn't been put in Slytherin, or if Voldemort had never been brought back to life, or if his parents had never met and he had never been born. He wished that Abraxas Malfoy and Druella Black had never had an affair, and, in order to restore their individual names to power and out of the eyes of scorn, offered up their youngest or only child, respectively, to be legally married in the eyes of the Ministry to create a power-pureblood-couple. Draco wondered what would have happened if his father had refused to marry Narcissa Black, and taken another wife. Draco would never have been born, and none of this mess he had to deal with would ever be dealt with. And what would happen if Draco had been born from Lily and James Potter, or a Weasley branch, or the Parkinsons, the Longbottoms, or even – dare he think it – to a pair of Muggles? He wouldn't be Draco Lucius Malfoy, that was for sure. He could be anyone, or anything. He could have been born out of the sight of pride and prejudice, and instead brought up with a family who valued kindness and fun. A family who didn't mind sitting down for dinner together and actually talked about their day; a family who celebrated grades with more than a pat on a back; a family who had friends over in the summer for a game of Quidditch and a cup of tea; parents who obviously loved each other; a mother who darned socks and didn't wear genuine emerald earrings at the breakfast table; a father who was home in time for dinner and didn't sneer when his son asked him if he could teach him how to fly a broom; a sibling of any kind – a younger sister would be loveliest, how he would love to have a sister – that he could argue with over silly things and protect and tease and love more than anything. He supposed that instead of wishing for all of these things to make him normal, he should just wish to be normal.

"Draco, are you alright?" And then there was her. He stood up quickly, whipping around to face her. Luna Lovegood. She was what made him the most abnormal person on the planet, yet at the same time made him feel like he was normal. He would say that she was magical, if that wasn't already literal. He would say that she was endowed with a sort of witchcraft, if that wasn't true. He would say that she must have had cast some spell over him or slipped him a love potion, if that wasn't entirely possible. His eyes widened as he took in what she was wearing. Her feet were in nothing more than a pair of brown suede-looking jungle-boot-like-things that went up to the middle of her calves, with the laces about half undone and flapping about in the wind. Other than that, she was wearing her school uniform, sans tie and cloak, a thick grey cardigan – unbuttoned, ridiculously – and a brightly patterned scarf in their places. It was impossible that she wasn't freezing out here.

"I'm fine, Lovegood." He grumbled, turning back around to look across the lake. He heard her laugh and felt himself shiver at the sound, not from the cold. However, the part of Draco that was truly a Malfoy forced him to attribute this sudden shudder to the temperature outside by the water, and so he stuffed his hands in his armpits in an attempt to warm his fingers up, having just realized that they were practically numb from the cold.

"It's funny, really," in his peripheral vision he saw Luna come forward to stand beside him, not looking at him but instead mimicking his eye-line and staring out over the still lake. He made a non-committal grunt, or perhaps it was more of a hum. Silence. She didn't appear to be continuing with her sentence, which almost made him grin. Almost.

Curious, he flicked his eyes towards her, saw that she was staring at him, now, and then quickly redirected his gaze back to the water. "What's funny, Lovegood?" He asked indifferently. He saw her smile, he practically _felt_ her smile, but continued with his stoic facade. Ah, yes, he was truly an expert on acting like nothing in the world could possibly make him care. When, in fact, nothing in the world could possibly make him care more than he did for Luna Lovegood.

"How you always lie to me." She said, the calm in her voice surreal and unbelievable. How could she say something like that so serenely, so contentedly? How could she be happy with his lies? He turned his head sharply to face her, drinking in the everlasting blue of her eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asked curtly, suddenly avoiding her insightful gaze and pinpointing a spot in the middle of her eyebrows to stare at so that he wouldn't have to make eye contact with her. Draco didn't want her to break down his walls again. He was tired of constantly rebuilding them and he wanted to just be able to relax. Or, perhaps he didn't. Perhaps he loved the way Luna Lovegood completely rattled him. Either way, he wasn't going to let her penetrate him, not now.

"You say you're fine. You always do." She replied nonchalantly, turning to face the lake again. "But you never are." These few words were quiet, nearly silent, and still he heard them like he was up in the Clock Tower in London and they were Big Ben, striking the time into his ears.

"I _am _fine." He insisted frankly, the tone in his voice dictating that this was the end of this conversation. She sighed melodically, and he watched her close her eyes as the wind rushed under, on, around, and over her. It lifted her hair from its position along her back and tangled it in the air in a fashion that made Draco envy the hold that the breeze had on the girl. He wished he could have her in that kind of blissful trance, and that it would be his fingers tangled in those lovely tendrils of blonde hair, rather than the frigid gusts of the wind.

She suddenly opened her eyes and turned to look at him, a brilliant smile on her face. He reciprocated the action, although without the smile. "What do you want, Lovegood?" He asked, his tone irritated but his true intention warm. He wanted to ask her what she wanted. Whatever he wanted, he would get for her. He was prepared to conjure up a lasso and tether down the sun or the moon or the stars or entire constellations. He would harness a cloud and tame it just so that she could ride upon it, above all the turmoil of the world below. He would love her if that was what she wanted; he would hold her in his arms and never let her go. He would do anything; he would be anything if it meant he could be with her, effortlessly and peacefully and perfectly in love.

"That's an absurd question, Draco." She giggled. He noticed the slight violet shade that her lips had taken on in the cold. Her face fell as she looked up at him. "You must be freezing," she breathed, her eyes flitting around his figure in a concerned fashion. He shrugged, starting as she took his hands in hers. Her pale hands were colder than his own, but he felt himself warming up just from the gesture. A gradual heat coursed through his veins, making the corners of his mouth turn up in a shy smile. She stepped closer to him, her turning-purple lips the focus of his silvery gaze. He almost felt like he could simply lean down and capture them in his. Almost. Instead, he hardened his jaw and yanked his hands from hers, mentally kicking himself when he saw the dejected look on her face.

"People could see us, Lovegood, did you think of that?" He hissed. She only replaced her broad grin.

"No," she sang before turning and skipping away, into the small scape of evergreen and deciduous trees that bordered the lake and the Forbidden Forest. Scowling, he replaced his hands in his pockets and looked back at the Black Lake. Subtle, silent waves formed with the strong wind, and the water lapped at the edge of the pebbled ground. He exhaled roughly, the heat of his breath appearing in the air like smoke from his grandfather's tobacco pipe. Draco stood there, unbelievably still, staring at nothing in particular. He let out a weary sigh, repositioned his hat, and turned on his heel: following Luna Lovegood. He wandered off in the direction that she had gone, however, he could not see her. She had disappeared into the small forest, playfully tugging Draco along after her without meaning to. She was a magnet. He was metal.

As he reached what had once been a canopy of tree leaves but was now a twisted puzzle of spider-black branches, he paused. Where on earth had Luna gone? Where was she hiding? Where could she be? "Lovegood?" He called, his silver-tongued voice slipping out into the crisp air. He was very careful not to make a sound as his finely-tuned ears tried to pick up a footfall or reply or one of those damned ethereal giggles. Nothing. Not a single breath. No answer. "Lovegood?" He tried again, slowly walking as silently as he possibly could. Again, there was no answer. Maybe she had gone up to the castle-

An array of horrendously rich colours caught his eye. He swiveled to see the scarf that had once been looped gracefully around her neck resting on a low tree branch. "Lovegood?" He called again, a feeling of choking dread creeping up on him like a python wrapping itself around his body. He crept forward, gently plucking the knitted scarf from its place, feeling a strange softness in his hands. The material was light, like silk, but was warm and fuzzy, like the most expensive cashmere that Narcissa Malfoy could only dream of. Taking a moment to glance around and realize that he was truly alone, he pressed the fabric to his nose, inhaling the scent of the young woman that he was so enamoured with. He quickly deterred himself from continuing, realizing that, even if nobody was watching, it was still incredibly creepy.

And anyway, he still hadn't found Luna.

He felt the ice from outside finally stab his heart, little icicles poking at the tender flesh of the organ. What if Luna was hurt? She obviously loved this scarf; she would never part with it unless... unless something happened to her. That was how Draco Malfoy came to the conclusion that Luna Lovegood was in danger.

"Lovegood!" He bellowed, walking brusquely around the immediate area, almost tripping over various snow-hidden tree roots. "Luna!" No answer. "LUNA!"

Silence.

**Preview:**

**""Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?"**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
**

**Oops it's me again. So, chapter ten was intended to be one long chapter, but instead I split it up into two because I felt really super bad for not updating and giving all twenty-nine of you another chapter to look at. So instead here's the first part, it's a bit of a filler because the next chap is when things really start rolling. **

**ALSO, something else super exciting is I went back and rebuilt the structure of the chapters, as well as did some corrections that I felt were necessary. If you want to go back and check those out then go ahead, if not then so be it.**

**Please review, I'd like at least six and a half before I update again within a couple weeks. Reviews make me three-thousand percent more motivated, so if you want all forty-three chapters of this story completed and on the internet then REVIEW YOUR ELBOWS OFF.**

**What, did I say forty-three chapters? Oh well would you look at that - I totally did. And for a reason, too. See, when I first planned out CYE, I had a three-part series (the first at thirty-six chapters, the second at twenty-nine, and the third at fifty-two). CYE is the first part, followed by two others. HOWEVER, having one is better, because... well, I just liked that idea better. So this one is the first two books in one, and I combined and reordered chapter summaries so that I could squish it all into (say it with me, guys) FORTY-THREE CHAPTERS. And I'm super (I need to find a new word - suggest some) excited for all of them; I hope you are too. (:**

**Have lovely lives!**

**-e.**

**Have a nice day.**


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